The cult of Santiago; traditions, myths, and pilgrimages; a sympathetic study [microform]

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THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

THE

CULT.QF

TRADED tfS, 'MtTHS, AND
PILGRIMAGES

A SYMPATHETIC STUDY

BY THE

REV. JAMES S. STONE, D.D.

RECTOR EMERITUS OF ST. JAMES'S CHURCH, CHICAGO, AND
VICAR HONORARIUS Off ST. MARK'S CHURCH, EVANSTON, ILL.

LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO.

55 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK

39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
TORONTO, CALCUTTA, BOMBAY, AND MADRAS

1927

'. ' , *

* * . " ' "* '

Made in Great Britain

TO

MY BELOVED AND LOVING DAUGHTER
VIOLET

PREFACE

THE Iberian Peninsula is one of the most delightful countries
in Europe, and the better the traveller knows it the more
enchanting it becomes. Every part of it has this quality,
but none more so than the remote province of Galicia, in
which the chief glory is the shrine at Compostella of St. James
the Great, once fisherman of Galilee, then Apostle of Christ,
and for these many centuries Patron Saint of Spain.

This book has for its purpose the encouragement of a still
more lively interest in St. James and the things which have
been associated with him in history and tradition. The
subject is capable of wide expansion. It was not found
possible to gather and present in so limited a space all that
is known or told of the distinguished Apostle; but enough
is given to illustrate the part he played, or the part that has
been assigned to him, in history or in folklore, and to clear
and freshen an atmosphere beclouded and darkened by time
and change, so that the man himself may be better seen, the
virtues which were attributed to him, and the wonders he is
said to have wrought.

Into this sketch or study neither controversy nor prejudice
has been allowed to enter. On the contrary, far from any
indulgence of antagonism or attempt at destructive criticism,
there is maintained, and it is hoped unmistakably expressed,
a feeling of respect, sometimes even a warm sympathy, for
the legends, traditions, and customs which sprang out of
the cult of St. James, and which so deeply affected the
people among whom they prevailed. Without accepting
unqualifiedly the principle that anything, whether it be
myth, ceremony, hymn, or music, designed to call forth
the devotional feeling of the ignorant may be recognized
as admissible so that untruth, absurdity, or indecency
may be justified by their purpose this book has to do not
so much with the origins of the myths and legends advanced

vii

viii THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

as with their results. No reasonable doubt disturbs the sup-
position that for the most part these results were beneficial.

The writer may be seriously misunderstood if this parti-
cular be not kept in mind. The tales told and the miracles
recorded are not of equal value, much less of equal veracity.
Some seem intended to be taken symbolically rather than
literally. Their worth, if they chance to have any, depends
largely on the effect they produce on the hearer. Some
people find no difficulty in believing them : others can by
no means give them credit. No wise man will argue either
way. There may be, and in these pages it is assumed there
is, some truth underlying them, even though it be such as
only the poet can imagine. After all, as St. Gregory the
Great reminded Queen Theodolinda, the worth of a relic
depends more on the disposition of the recipient than on
the intrinsic value of the object or, as may be added, on
the physical, actual verity of the story.

Much is touched upon in these pages besides the Apostle
Santiago or the city of Compostella. An 'ordinary guide-
book furnishes a sketch of the latter, and an ordinary
encyclopaedia an account of the former, sufficient for
travellers who are satisfied with a few hours in the city,
and a passing thought of the Apostle.

But for the help of those to whom such fragmentary
information serves only as a gateway into the spacious
woods and fields of history for readers who would seriously
consider men and movements, and follow suggestions even
along devious paths and unfrequented byways these pages
present many personages and events, and some glimpses of
curious manners and strange incidents, which had to do with
the foundation and development of the cult of St. James.

The book, therefore, will be found discursive, yet may it be
fairly said that in not a few of its wanderings happen some
of the most helpful and interesting work done. The tendency
has been to subjects of picturesque and winsome quality, or
of historical or biographical consequence, such as mediaeval
pilgrimages and romances, or the ties which once bound
England and Spain together in pleasant fellowship, or the
story of Cluny, or the part in the world's life taken by men

PREFACE ix

such as Ram6n Lull, Andrew Boorde, John of Gaunt, or
the hero of Corunna. The effort has also been made to
maintain simplicity of thought and style. If the writer has
been tempted to drift wide in the sea of knowledge, or
upward into the sky of imagination, he has determined
never to pass out of sight never to be lost in profundity
of learning or in absurdity of speculation.

The reader must judge for himself how closely this intention
has been observed, and how far these pages have encouraged
and furthered him in the study he has been led to expect
from the title of the book.

God bless all good pilgrims, whether they wander across
the sea or over the mountains, or through the mazes of
literature, to the shrine of the Blessed Apostle of Spain !

UNIVEBSITY CLUB, CHICAGO,
September 29, 1927.

CHAPTER I
THE APOSTLE AND PATRON OF SPAIN

THE name of St. James the Apostle not only carries us back
to the times when a Roman procurator ruled in Jerusalem,
but also brings to mind some of the romance and splendour
of the Middle Ages.

Few periods, and especially the latter, are more informing
than these in history or more attractive in legend ; and in
both history and legend, like other heroes of the past, St.
James has his place scarcely any more outstanding, and
none more worthy of study.

In sketching his story, as is our purpose, it should from
the outset be remembered that though myths and legends
differ from history and philosophy in origin, and in nature
may be distinguished the one from the other, yet ever and
anon they become so intermingled that separation is difficult.
History is supposed to be founded on literal, physical fact,
and philosophy upon sound and irrefutable thinking. Myths
and legends, even should they chance to be true and reason-
able in themselves, spring out of likelihood or tradition, the
product of imagination and symbolism. Not infrequently
they bring about beneficial results, and even control for good
the purpose and conduct of life, not so much because they
are true in themselves f or they may be pure fictions, without
fact or probability but because they tend to an end which
may be helpful and desirable. The end may not be allowed
to justify the means, but the means may bring about the
end. * By their fruits ye shall know them.'

It is not well that history or philosophy should despise
myths and legends. They may not indeed stand the tests
which history and philosophy freely apply to themselves.
I am not sure that Alfred the Great tended the oven in the
herdsman's hut, but I learn that homely tasks are not
beneath a monarch's notice, and that disguise is most easily
effected in unexpected places. I think all the more of the
Anglo-Saxon king when I picture him handling cakes ; even
as I do of English archers when I recall the feats of Robin

2 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Hood and the exploits of Agincourt. I may not be able to
prove the story, but the story helps me to appreciate the
truth to which the story points.

In dealing with myths and legends it is not needful so
much to search for the verity that may or may not be in
them, as to discover what fact or lesson they may reflect.
For they are as mirrors which cast back the rays of the sun.
The sun is not in the mirror. Indeed the mirror in itself has
neither light nor heat. Yet it may convey, even where the
sun itself could not convey, both light and heat. The mirror
may send the brilliance of the morning sun into the recesses
and caves of the eastern side of the valley ; and the legend
may bring to me a truth which in the legend itself does not
exist. If the mirror be faulty, it necessarily fails in its
purpose ; and undoubtedly there are myths and legends so
absurd, far fetched, improbable, lifeless, that not only do
they defy respect, but they also tend to evil.

It is not unlikely that some of the myths and legends to
which our attention may be drawn in this study will provoke
nothing more than a smile. Others may excite ridicule
and even contempt. For such no excuse may be advanced.
They degrade whatever they pretend to make known. But
myths and legends of the kind that delight us, win our
sympathies, and do not outrage our common sense, whether
in themselves physically true or untrue, have another pur-
pose and bring about a different effect. Some judgment
must be exercised. We cannot believe the unbelievable ;
and though faith be not required, it is apt to become trouble-
some if there be no verisimilitude.

But believable or unbelievable, honest or false, it is well
to recognize the influence, right or wrong, which these things
have had in human affairs. Nothing should be refused con-
sideration that has wrought either good or evil.

It will be found on examination that myths and legends
are concerned chiefly with personality. As clouds gather
round mountain peaks, so they cluster about some renowned
and eminent individual. In this study we shall consider
the stories and miracles which have been told of Santiago of
Compostella : the stories and miracles which have given
him dignity in Spain and position in the ecclesiastical hier-
archy. Other like characters abound. We might have
taken, for instance, either Paul of Tarsus or Roger Bacon,
but unhappily in the one case we should have been plunged
into theology, and in the other lost in science. In both

THE APOSTLE AND PATRON OP SPAIN 3

instances we should have had wider and safer material ;
but in neither an equal romance or as lively an interest.
At any rate, St. James is fairly typical of all such men,
though he was neither a theologian nor a scientist. His
legends are more daring than those of most saints, his adven-
tures more surprising, his adherents more devoted, and his
surroundings more remarkable.

These stories, probably more mythical than historical,
and these miracles, perhaps more doubtful than otherwise,
created or supported the cult which in the course of time
came to St. James. By ' cult ' I do not imply the worship
and adoration of Almighty God, with which religion can
allow no interference, but the relationship to God which
may find its most important quality in successful influence
and unfailing intercession with Him. Even as it is held that
in this life the prayers of a righteous man availeth much, so
from very early times it has been maintained that the same
principle continues in the other life. Death may sever the
individual from his body, but not from his sympathies or
from any of the qualities which united him to his fellows.
The closer his obedience and attachment to God, the surer
his power with God. In ages when people felt afraid to go to
God themselves, either from shame or a consciousness of
futility, they besought these friends and adherents of God
to help them. The more renowned the saint, the more hope-
ful his success. His popularity increased with his miracles
and the evidences of his graciousness and proficiency. The
multitude resorted to him more fervently than ever. They
implored his prayers, and made offerings for his favour.
They did not give him divine honours ; but they reverenced
him, and did all they could to get him to represent them
rightly and lovingly to God.

So grew mightily the cult or fame or popularity of
St. James.

But my purpose is not to use St. James merely as an illus-
tration of myths and legends ; but rather to deal with such
because they tell of him. He is the object of our study ;
the myths and legends which I shall touch upon are inter-
esting mostly because they are associated with him. They
may have worth ; but he gives them that worth.

The St. James who ranks among the national saints as the
Apostle and Patron of Spain, and with whose cult these
pages are concerned, is distinguished by the title of 'the
Great,' or ' the Greater.' He was not only called to be an

4 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Apostle, but out of the Twelve Disciples he was chosen as
one of the three more intimate friends and immediate
associates of the Teacher of Galilee. These three disciples,
Peter, James, and John, formed an inner circle to whom
Christ revealed Himself as to none other, and to whom He
gave greater opportunities and a more direct confidence.
He brought them close to Himself. More than their brethren
they appreciated His mission and purpose in the world ;
they beheld in ever-clearing vision His personality, know-
ledge, love, and power ; and they devoted to Him both
themselves and every quality they possessed. On them He
laid responsibility, and they accepted that responsibility
faithfully and fearlessly. So He made them the first princes in
the kingdom of God, and invested them with an immortality
that should outlive the ages.

Of the three Apostles, St. Peter became the leader and
chief, St. John the resplendent manifestation of the power
and supremacy of love, and St. James ranks with them as
one of the greatest of the spiritual heroes of Christendom.
With the mightiest of the mighty, he becomes a commander
of men. One of the three friends of the Christ, apostle and
confessor, and then martyr, he is remembered through the
centuries, and in most countries, in a glory all his own.

But nowhere has he been given greater reverence and
affection, or lifted up to higher honour, than in Spain. On
the other hand, no country has received more help from any
saint than did Spain from him. He and Spain are insepar-
ably one. There he shines in a galaxy of splendour, the
brightest star among them all, amid the myriads of holy
ones, beyond all others, none more beloved.

So mighty and splendid is the Saint of Compostella, so
transcendent his deeds, and so tremendous the claims made
for him, that sometimes, in spite of my enthusiasm, I find it
hard to think of him as the disciple spoken of in the New
Testament. Far removed from the occupation of a fisher-
man on the Sea of Galilee, he attains a position among kings
and princes, and becomes high among the most excellent
ones of earth. In this, however, he is not alone. St. Peter
passed through an even more significant transformation.
In social life next to nothing, yet he became the Church's
pontiff, with his foot on the neck of kings, and the whole
world acknowledging him to be the Vicar of Christ. And in
far-away times, when the sons of Abraham were strangers in
a strange land, Joseph, child of a foreigner, once a dweller

THE APOSTLE AND PATRON OF SPAIN 6

in tents, and once in prison charged with a criminal offence,
became viceroy of Egypt and friend of the Pharaoh ; and
David rose from the sheepfold to the throne of Israel. But
for such examples, not uncommon in oriental lands, one
might dispute the continuity which is alleged to lie between
the disciple of the Nazarene and the Santiago of Spain. It
is not necessary or well to disturb one's peace by questioning
that continuity. It is established on the best authority avail-
able ; and there were times in Spain when to deny that same
continuity might cost a man his life. Spain never had a doubt.

As the centuries went on, not even the shrine of St. Martin
of Tours or that of St. Thomas of Canterbury, resorts of two
of the most renowned saints, the one in France and the other
in England, could vie in popularity or in reputation with
the sanctuary of St. James the Apostle at Compostella in
Galicia. In the Middle Ages, throughout the Christian
worldj by all classes of people, and especially by the distressed
in body and the burdened in soul, the lame, the halt, and the
blind, and the men and women of outstanding crime or of
notoriously sinful life, St. James was known as a kindly and
prevailing advocate. His influence with Heaven was as-
sumed to be almost boundless, the efficacy of his intercession
with the Almighty not excelled. With the exception of the
Apostles at Rome, no saint in Europe attracted such multi-
tudes of pilgrims, inspired such confidence, drew out such
gifts and offerings, occasioned such astonishing legends, or
wrought such wonderful miracles. He had the confidence
and won the devotion of innumerable believers ; and around
him gathered romance no less vivid and felicitous than was
his reputation.

To take St. James the Great out of those centuries in which
faith ran riot and life glowed with fancy, and in which the
world prepared itself for an outburst of art and literature
and vision beyond aught that antiquity knew, is not only
to leave significant movements in history beclouded, but
also to lessen the charm of the past, and to lose much of its
hope and inspiration.

It is my endeavour to gather as much material together as
possible, or at least as much as comes within my reach, and,
for the curiosity and knowledge of those so inclined, there-
from set forth as best I may the adventures, associations,
and renown of the courteous and generous benefactor of
Compostella, or, as he is more fully described, that ' Apostel
de Jesu Christo, Sanctiago Zebedeo, Padron y Capitan

6 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

General de las Espanas ' ; once a fisherman of Galilee and
one of the chosen Twelve, then the tutelary Saint of Spain,
the guardian of all faithful Netmakers and Pilgrims, and the
mediator of kings and popes, and in time a prince among
Christian knights. His name is the warcry of valiant Spain,
and he is the spiritual cousin of St. George of England.

Much that I have in mind has been done already, and
done much better than it is possible for me to do it. Neither
time nor opportunity, to say nothing of other qualities, is
sufficiently at my disposal. And yet in my purpose of in-
ducing others to think of St. James somewhat as the people
of old thought of him, and to appreciate more livingly the
times in which his fame was at its height, I have sought
after a principle, I may call it a humour or a mood, which
is not always evident in the work even of those who know
more about St. James than I can hope to know. I shall not
attempt here to distinguish this spirit, for if it become not
evident in the course of our study, I should only tell of my
failure. More than this, I love and reverence with all my
heart those ages through which my peregrinations chiefly
meander. Those ages had evils and inconveniencies in
them undoubtedly ; undesirable qualities which make me
glad that I did not live in them. They were coarse, cruel,
oppressive, with imperfections peculiarly their own. So
with every age. Each has its abuses, excesses, misappre-
hensions, and indifferences which clamour for removal. But
the past, this very period which many readers so freely con-
demn, was no more deficient than the present in its desire
for reformation. The excellences of human nature were
present and active then quite as much as they have been in
every age. There have always been men among men con-
tending with evil and battling for good.

Human nature remains much the same through all time.
The pilgrims whom we shall see on their way to Compostella
differed in nothing essential from the men and women who
wandered in primeval forests, or from the men and women
who occupy the world to-day. If we would follow this
thought, and judge more justly and kindly of people whose
weaknesses astonish us, chiefly because our own shortcomings
are so different, it is well to remember the picture drawn by
a poet of very distant times in his effort to account for the
existence of sin in the world. Had there been no sin, there
had been no shrines, no pilgrims, perhaps no saints. There
would have been no need for such. But when the first

THE APOSTLE AND PATRON OP SPAIN 7

parents of our race, created, as he would have us suppose,
innocent and immortal, and set in a garden of sweet and
clean delight, fell before temptation, the poet does not
reproach them as having been addicted to wrong-doing.
They were neither born in sin nor shapen in iniquity. On
the contrary, he speaks of them as in close fellowship with
the Creator Himself. He implies that evil was not inherent
in them, but in the creature which assailed them, and for
which he can find no more apt figure than that of a serpent.
They erred, not because they were in their nature wicked,
but because they were human, just as God had made them :
positively good and negatively bad ; and from their very
power of obedience capable of disobedience. Even angels
in heaven, pure in conduct and free from peril of evil, as we
commonly imagine them to be, are said to have done wrong
and to have been cast out, as Milton, amply supported by
the sacred writings, tells the story.

Nor did Adam and Eve after leaving Paradise abandon
themselves to evil. Ever since the beginning of the .exile,
their descendants have been on pilgrimage from the garden
where grew the tree of life to the garden where grows the
tree the leaves of which shall be for the healing of the nations.
A toilsome journey ! But all the way along man has been
building his altars, consecrating his temples, and offering his
sacrifices, that possibly he might get to God, and realize his
ideals of that holiness which makes God. Man did these
things when the flaming sword at the gate of Eden had
scarcely vanished out of sight. He did it, too, in those ages
when weary souls wandered across the river to Thebes, or
over th mountains to Santiago.

Such conclusions should be set against the opinion that
the Middle Ages were so benighted and wretched, the people
so far gone in ignorance and recklessness of living, that they
can scarcely be thought of as Christian. I do not thus
blacken the past. Rather do I turn gladsomely to that past,
because it was as human, even though it was in its own way
also as bad, as any present I know, or as any future will be.
It may have been worse than aught I suspect. I am sure it
was better than many will allow. If Jacob would steal
his brother's blessing, and John Lackland his brother's
kingdom, in the market-places to-day there are brethren not
one whit less reluctant to do one to another dishonest and
contemptible things. And, on the other hand, through all
the ages, there have been those who have walked carefully

8 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and lovingly in the way ordained by God and commended
by man. I do not exaggerate when I say that in the Middle
Ages, in spite of what some are pleased to call ignorance and
superstition, Christ was beloved and followed by multitudes.
My readers will agree with me. Our experiences have
probably been closely akin. I have tried to live in those
old times, to think as people then thought, to appreciate the
philosophy and ceremonies, the arts and customs, the
churches and the homes, that then were common. I revel
in the books of Cardinal Gasquet, Dr. Jessopp, Canon
Rawnsley, and Professor Brewer, and delight to annotate
them with with the wider and more accurate knowledge of
Professor G. G. Coulton. Maitland's Dark Ages and
Macaulay's Third Chapter were mines whence came rich
treasures. Long before I could understand scholars and
antiquaries such as these, I knew all the characters of the
Prologue, and had laughed with Falstaff and the Merry
Wives, dreamed through Chevy Chase, wept with the Lady
of Shalott, and tried to picture King Arthur and the Knights
of the Round Table. Robin Hood and his fearless outlaws
were cherished and faultless friends. Now and again I met
them in the greenwood. Friar Tuck reminded me of a
rotund, good-tempered curate a happy man of God who
taught boys Latin constructions and the way to cut whistles
out of willow-sticks and pens out of goose-quills. Not far
from ruined castle and narrow-windowed church I read the
Mysteries of Udolpho. I imitated Old Mortality in decipher-
ing inscriptions on time-worn walls. In these reminiscences
I am recalling not merely my own but the reader's experience ;
and I do so that I may the more readily bring him into sym-
pathy with my subject. And thus, in one way or another,
early in life some of us gain an inkling of that mysterious and
subtle quality, I scarcely know what to call it, which in these
days is said to linger faintly and only in rare and hospitable
souls. To get nearer that romance, for which I suppose my
reader is intent as fervently as I, to hear more clearly its
bewitching melody, and to delve farther into its depths, is
one of the purposes of our wandering among the myths and
traditions of St. James of Compostella.

A quotation from James Anthony Froude's History of
England, apt and suggestive, is given in an opening page of
the Oxford Mediaeval England. Here imagination suggests
the region into which I would entice myself and tempt my
reader to venture.

THE APOSTLE AND PATRON OF SPAIN 9

' And now it is all gone like an unsubstantial pageant
faded ; and between us and the old English there lies a gulf
of mystery which the prose of the historian will never
adequately bridge. They cannot come to us, and our
imagination can but feebly penetrate to them. Only among
the aisles of our cathedrals, only as we gaze upon their silent
figures sleeping on their tombs, some faint conceptions float
before us of what these men were when they were alive ; and
perhaps in the sound of church bells, that peculiar creation
of mediaeval age, which falls upon the ear like the echo of a
vanished world.'

As St. James to the Spaniard was far more popular and
powerful than any other saint, than even St. Peter, and was
held to have done for Spain more than the Prince of the
Apostles, or all the Apostles put together, had done for any
country, so by the people under his care his name was spread
round the world. Wherever the Spaniard went, St. James
went too. There is a Santiago in Chile, another in Cuba, in
Haiti, in Mexico, Argentina, Peru, and in Columbia ; a
San Diego in California, and a cape, San Diego, in Tierra del
Fuego. Speaking of the aboriginals of Mexico the Catholic
Encyclopaedia says : ' Hearing the Spaniards speak con-
stantly of the Apostle St. James, they became convinced
that he was some sort of divine protector of the conquerors,
and that it was therefore necessary to gain his favour. Hence
the great devotion that the Indians had for St. James, the
numerous churches dedicated to him, and the statues of him
in so many churches, mounted on a white horse, with drawn
sword, in the act of charging.'

Nor were Spanish voyagers and settlers alone in perpetuat-
ing the Apostle's name. The province of Victoria in Aus-
tralia has a town called ' St. James,' and here and there in
America ' James ' appears as a place-name. It was not after
the Galilean, but after the first English king who bore his
name, that the eighteen or more ' Jamestowns ' in the United
States were so called. In every Christian country churches
consecrated after hj.s name abound ; and scattered in every
direction, bays, capes, islands, mountains, and rivers are so
designated. It is a favourite baptismal name, especially
in the Peninsula and in Scotland ; and in England alone no
less than seventeen peers and eight baronets carry in their
coats of arms, as heraldic charges, scallop-shells, St. James's
special sign and crest.

Nor may it be overlooked, though kings no longer reside

10 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

in the palace at Westminster called by the name of the
Apostle, that the Court whence the sovereigns of Great
Britain speak to the world is still known as that of ' Saint
James.'

Perhaps the position of St. James in the life of those far-
away times, his prominence and worth, and the hope and
affection his votaries deposited in" him, may be more pleas-
antly suggested in the following lines, the substance of which
is said to have been sung, perhaps litanywise, in the old days
by congregations on bended knee, before his shrine in Com-
postella, on the eve of his commemoration festival. These
verses are given by George Henry Borrow in his Bible in
Spain, published in 1863, but it is not clear from where he
got them.

Thou shield of that faith which in Spain we revere,
Thou scourge of each f oeman who dares to draw near ;
Whom the Son of that God who the elements tames,
Call'd child of the thunder, immortal Saint James !

From the blessed asylum of glory intense,
Upon us thy sovereign influence dispense ;
And list to the praises our gratitude aims
To offer up worthily, mighty Saint James !

To thee fervent thanks Spain shall ever outpour ;
In thy name though she glory, she glories yet more
In thy thrice hallow'd corse, which the sanctuary claims
Of high Compostella, O blessed Saint James !

When heathen impiety, loathsome and dread,
With a chaos of darkness our Spain overspread,
Thou wast the first light which dispell'd with its flames
The hell-born obscurity, glorious Saint James !

And when terrible wars had nigh wasted our force,
All bright 'midst the battle we saw thee on horse,
Fierce scattering the hosts, whom their fury proclaims
To be warriors of Islam, victorious Saint James !

Beneath thy direction, stretch'd prone at thy feet,
With hearts low and humble, this day we entreat
Thou wilt strengthen the hope which enlivens our frames,
The hope of thy favour and presence, Saint James.

Then praise to the Son and the Father above,

And to that Holy Spirit which springs from their love ;

To that bright emanation whose vividness shames

The sun's burst of splendour, and praise to Saint James.

CHAPTER II
THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY

THE literature concerning St. James is abundant and within
easy reach. It is my purpose to make some observations
thereon, which may serve not only to indicate the authors I
have used in this study, and the tendency which underlies it,
but further to express my gratitude for the help these authors
have been to me, and also to suggest where more information
may be obtained on the subject generally.

Modern writers naturally depend upon ancient authorities ;
if possible, contemporary with the events or times described,
or so near them as to afford some likelihood of their plausi-
bility. They have no alternative, unless they would draw
on their own imagination ; and yet, creative and resourceful
as imagination may be, no imagination can occasion more
admiration or surprise than the industry which is required
to dig and delve in those vast and musty tomes, Latin or
Spanish, or perchance Arabic, some in manuscript still, which
contain the records. Perhaps, more wonderful than either
imagination or industry is the skill to set in order, to inter-
pret, to discover the real worth, and to find the relationships
of materials brought to the surface out of these dark, deep
mines. Few are they who have the industry, and fewer still
they who have the skill ; and foolish would he be who, deal-
ing with myths and legends, would claim an imagination like
unto that of the men of old time.

Now the social and political history of Spain has an attrac-
tion second in no particular to that of any other country in
the world, not even to that of ancient Greece or modern
France, and I know few as fascinating ; but among men,
and especially among such as are called men of religion, so
outstanding and impressive is St. James, so pervasive His
influence, and so entrancing the traditions concerning him,
that nearly all writers who have had Spain or the people of
Spain as their subject have something to say about him.
As well forget the Escorial or Gibraltar or Cordoba as over-
look the saint of Compostella. He is scarcely less in people's

11

12 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

hearts and minds to-day than he was a thousand years since.
The revelations or opinions of travellers cannot but vary in
value. So the books that are founded on such. A few
authors, if not original, are at least fresh and unexpected ;
and many merely copy some one else. In either case, they
disseminate information ; but information to be acceptable
depends more or less on sympathy, and in sympathy writers
widely differ.

It is not easy for me to decide which I had rather read :
the author who is credulous enough to accept the unreason-
able and the impossible, or the writer who does not believe
anything, and treats the beliefs of others as delusions. On
the whole, I think I prefer the warm winds of the spice-lands
to the ice-streams of the north. I may be bewildered by
the one ; I shall be killed by the other. Out of the one I may
find a way which may lead to some satisfactory interpre-
tation ; but there is no escape from the grave. In my study
of this subject, I confess that I have liked the enthusiasm of
Spanish writers rather than the deliberation and hesitation
characteristic of English and American writers. The one
sort love and are proud of the Lord's Apostle ; the other care
next to nothing for him, and do not know what to think of
him. At least that is the way I persuade myself.

Such discrimination, however, must not be overdone or
exercised out of season. The critic is of use : much, if he be
constructive; little, if he be otherwise. Yet, after all, I
turn more kindly to the beauty and aroma of the rose than
to its flowerage torn or dissected. I am told that some
people do not believe that angels ever sang over the fields
of Bethlehem ; and yet it is also said that such people can
listen with delight at Christmastide to the chanting of choirs
or the chiming of bells. They listen to the story of the mid-
winter feast, and picture the merry olden times ; and yet
the light enters not into their heart. Their faith, or their
lack of faith, does not trouble me, but their sympathy
gladdens my very soul. In that sympathy we are one with
each other. I shall never myself seek to uncover the mystery
that underlies Christmas ; but I shall always attach myself
closely to the spirit which I feel sure sprang out of that
mystery. And so in dealing with the sources of authority,
as a matter of course, I incline more readily and more
tenderly towards those who give heart and fancy as well as
mind to my subject.

Articles and references, more or less informing and illumi-

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 13

nating, may be found in such works as the Encyclopaedia
Britannica, the Catholic Encyclopaedia, Chambers's Book of
Days, James's Apocryphal Gospels, Brewer's Handbooks,
and Alban Butler's and Baring-Gould's Lives of the Saints.
Of first importance is the Bollandists' Acta Sanctorum, and
no better summary of the Life of St. James, largely gathered
from that collection, has been written than that by Anna
Jameson in her Sacred and Legendary Art.

One of the most comprehensive and exhaustive works on
the subject is The Way of Saint James, written by Georgiana
Goddard King, Professor of the History of Art in Bryn Mawr
College, Pennsylvania. Its three volumes, published by the
Hispanic Society of America, in 1920, are not only attractive
in form, but are encyclopaedic in substance. Professor King
may criticize, but she rarely condemns. Once in a while
I suspect a laughing elf, but she never laughs because she
disbelieves or scorns. Her eye lights on the humour, which
even angels can create, and most likely indulge in. She
knows Spain, and especially Galicia, thoroughly, having
lived and journeyed there some years, and kept fast her
attention and interest on the art, and to an extent really
amazing, on the legends and history of the country. She is
familiar with its literature, extensive and remote as it is.
The language is her own, with its many dialects, and she is
at ease with mediaeval Latin. Moreover, her appreciation
of the people who wrought the art and cherished the legends
is keen and indulgent. She has ransacked the records and
chronicles of Compostella, and many another cathedral ;
gone over the stained documents and dusty folios with the
knowledge and judgment of the expert ; and examined
closely the worn and weather-beaten scenes and images
sculptured on walls and buttresses almost crumbling into
dust. Nor does she understand the people of to-day less
sympathetically. They welcomed her, and unbended them-
selves to her, as heartily as she greeted and mingled with
them. Thus she writes with that familiarity and love which
give charm to her pages, and which deserve the highest
praise. I have perused with delight her sketches, her notes,
and her reprints. There is little left of St. James the Great
that she has not touched upon. As a traveller she is perfect,
and some of her descriptions are veritable gems.

My commendation is neither fulsome nor extravagant ;
but there are aspects and details which Professor King could
not take up.

14 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Few more lively or more accurate descriptions of Spain
exist than that written by Richard Ford in his Handbook for
Travellers. Suppressed in 1845, the year of its publication,
because of its unnecessarily outspoken and offensive asser-
tions, it appeared again the same year in an edition but
slightly altered from the original work. So bitter is his
protestantism, so scornful his interpretation of legends, so
unfair his ridicule and extravagant his laughter, that he
makes his pages, informing though they may be, disagreeable
reading. He deals with the foibles of the ignorant and super-
stitious mercilessly, and never points out the affection and
faith which occasioned them, nor the happy consequences
which not infrequently they brought about.

Scarcely less spiteful than Ford is Ulrick Ralph Burke, or
his editor, Martin A. S. Hume, in his History of Spain (edition
of 1900). His knowledge of the subject is practically in-
exhaustible, and so far as I can discover trustworthy, but he
cannot refrain from treating the stories of St. James jocularly,
and smiling witlessly and superciliously at the decisions and
claims of the ecclesiastical authorities, or, perhaps, I should
say, of the hagiographical seers. Nor is C. R. L. Fletcher,
in his Making of Western Europe, free from the same in-
firmities. He writes well and wisely, but the traditions
and cult of St. James upset his calm, judicial spirit. So with
that most learned of all scholars in Arabian language and
literature, Reinhart Dozy. No one has written more wonder-
fully on Spanish Islam. Nothing can exceed in forceful
contempt his story of Spanish ingenuity in upholding the
reputation of St. James. In his Histoire des Mussulmans
d'Espagne, and in the third edition of his Recherches sur I'his-
toire et la litterature de I'Espagne pendant le moyen dge, the
Encyclopaedia Britannica says, 'he mercilessly exposes the
many tricks and falsehoods of the monks in their chronicles,
and effectively demolishes a good part of the Cid legends.'
His ' mercilessness ' is that of the tiger towards its prey.
The prey was born for him. He seizes his chance with raven-
ous avidity. Of course Gibbon is all himself in his passages
concerning the Saint.

Nevertheless, the gleaner of scraps belonging to St. James
of Compostella will be most unwise should he overlook these
historians. He will find more in them to his purpose, at
least more that he can depend upon, than in all the pane-
gyrists put together. Their pages may be of an aching
colour, but they teem with facts. The student of Gibbon,

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 15

for instance, will miss much besides truth if he allows him-
self to be deterred from reading him by the historian's cari-
cature of Christianity or exaggeration of Mohammedanism.
Even under a Rabelaisian exterior, grim and coarse though
it may appear, there may be virtues of inestimable worth.
At least, we need not throw away the good because it is hidden
in evil, nor condemn the man because of his unseemly garb.

I do not affirm that these writers, and others that I could
name with them, are as surprising in their merriment as they
are unkind. They desire to amuse, perhaps, even more than
to instruct, one feels, at the expense of some who care not
for amusement on such themes. I do not say they are with-
out excuse. I admit that not a few of the things I shall
myself recall are neither reasonable nor believable ; but for
all that, in view of the fact that they were held by practical
and honest men, I contend that they should be treated
respectfully. Better ch'oke oneself with humour, than
wound to death some one else with raillery or derision.

More to be desired than treatises ill-natured and anta-
gonistic is such a book as The Story of Santiago de Compostela,
published in 1912 by Messrs. J. M. Dent and Sons in their
series of ' Mediaeval Towns,' and written by C. Gasquoine
Hartley, the daughter of an English clergyman, and the wife,
first, of Walter M. Gallichan, and afterwards of Arthur D.
Lewis. Besides the Story of Santiago, and books on Spanish
Artists, Velasquez, Moorish Cities, and the Cathedrals of
Southern and Eastern Spain, she wrote Spain Revisited : a
Summer Holiday in Qalicia. This work contains some
material not given in the Story of Santiago, but it has not
won for itself a like popularity. Curiously, perhaps un-
happily, Mrs. Gallichan gave to her book a title which
had been used many years earlier by an American author ;
and the two books, which have little in common except
the title, have been confused with each other.

Students who care for out-of-the-way and forgotten books
may find some pleasure, and not a little information, in
turning the leaves of this older book, and a still older one
which led to it.

In 1829, the Harpers of New York brought out a work in
two volumes entitled A Year in Spain, written by ' A Young
American/ Five years later it was expanded into three
volumes having become very popular both in England and
in the United States, and also having been translated into
bwedish. Washington Irving, writing from London, says

16 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

' Here it is quite the fashionable book of the day, and spoken
of in the highest terms in the highest circles.' At that time
Spain was in serious political and social difficulties ; and
the Young American's book so irritated the authorities, that
they forbade his return into the country. He contrived to
evade the edict issued against his admission, and his ex-
periences are told in Spain Revisited, issued in 1836 by the
same publishers in two volumes, and announced to be ' by
the author of A Year in Spain.' This second work is lacking
, almost entirely in the interest which, at least for the time
being, made the first celebrated. It is dedicated to Lieu-
. tenant George Parker Upshur, of the United States Navy,
,nd is little better than an itinerary, with ample and unim-
portant details of the taverns and incidents by the way. It
is tiresome, dull, and uninf orming ; and has nothing to do
with Galicia or St. James. One of its most interesting obser-
vations refers to the small number of fish-days in Spain. Fish
were too scarce to serve for ecclesiastical purposes. Evi-
dently the Spanish clergy did not know that in the days of
Edward vi. of England fast-days were justified as a means
to benefit the king's fisheries.

The author of these two works was an officer in the
American Navy, Alexander Sliddell Mackenzie, born in 1803,
and died in 1848. He also wrote Spain and the Spaniards,
which, with his Tear in Spain, may attract desultory readers,
and bring to remembrance conditions now almost out . of
mind. Greatly overrated in his own day, Mackenzie's
books on Spain have been surpassed in every respect by
works such as Wild Spain (1893) and Unexplored Spain (1910)
both written by Abel Chapman and W. J. Buck ; and by
H. Havelock Ellis's The Soul of Spain (1908). Even Wash-
ington Irving, brilliant as he is, and among authors of the
first magnitude ever will be, though of importance on some
features of Spanish history and life, affords little help in a
study of St. James.

Passing by Mackenzie's Spain Revisited, after reading its
dreary chapters from beginning to end, in the vain hope of
finding at least some colouring that might prove helpful in
my study, I turn to Mrs. Gallichan's two books : her Spain
Revisited and her Story of Santiago. Of an entirely superior
quality are her narratives, both for their style and for their
contents.. Scholarly in substance and attractive in form,
her Story of Santiago never tires in interest or transgresses in
taste. She does not accept as exact to life the traditions

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 17

invented or developed concerning the Apostle, anymore than
did Ford or Burke ; but she looks upon them with a kindli-
ness and an appreciation which, with other qualities, unite
in making her little volume one of the most charming and
helpful of books written on the subject. I say this, notwith-
standing Professor King's severe criticism. ' I am not care-
ful,' Miss King states in the third volume of her Way of
Saint James, page 374, ' to denounce the accomplished lady
who has written of Santiago in the series of the "Mediaeval
Towns." She gives herself away on every page, as one blind-
folded whom the blind have led.' It is not for me to combat
this opinion, but I cannot help wishing that Professor
King had been less mordant. I only know that, in spite of
so harsh an opinion, I like Mrs. Gallichan's book its spirit
as well as its style, its devotion to its subject as well as its
desire to do that subject justice. Still, I stand by all that I
have said of Professor King, and she does name Mrs. Galli-
chan's book in her Bibliography, which implies that she
had read it.

Much information may be pleasantly picked up in books
such as Mss Joan Evans's Life in Mediaeval France (Oxford,
1925) ; Aubrey F. G. Bell's Spanish Galicia (London, 1923) ;
Jusserand's English Wayfaring Life in the Middle Ages
(London, 1889) ; The Moors in Spain (London, 1887), by
Stanley Lane-Poole ; Christians and Moors in Spain, by Miss
Charlotte Mary Yonge ; and The Bible in Spain (London,
1843), by George Henry Borrow. The excessive sectarian-
ism of the last-named work is forgiven in the picturesque
style, the vivid charm, and the facile familiarity with the
subjects of which the book treats. Borrow is regarded as
the most eccentric, the most whimsical, and in many ways
the most extraordinary of the ' remarkable individuals,' as
he himself called them, who during the middle of the nine-
teenth century figured in the world of letters ; and his
Bible in Spain made him famous as a wanderer, and, to quote
the Encyclopaedia Britannica, will keep his name fresh for
many a generation to come. Even should St. James be left
out, Sorrow's book should be read. It ranks among the
English classics.

Besides those already mentioned, there are other guide-
books, both old and new, to help the traveller from diverse
parts of the world to Compostella. These we shall find better
occasion to speak of when we come to the subject of pilgrim-
ages ; and yet reference may be made here to one of the

B

18 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

most curious codes of directions, written before 1435, possibly
well-nigh a century earlier, and printed in Purchas Ms Pil-
grimes, published in 1625. The title of this book runs :
' Here beginneth the way that is marked, and made wit
Mount Joiez from the Lond of Engelond unto Sent Jamez in
Galis, and from thennez to Rome, and from thennez to
Jerusalem : and so againe into Engelond, and the namez of
all the Citeez be their waie, and the maner of her gover-
naunce, and namez of her silver that they use be alle these
waie.'

Purchas tells his reader that the author of these ' old
English Rithmes ' is unknown, and his time : ' which yet is
likely to have beene about two hundred yeares since : Sir
Robert Cottons rich Librarie hath yeelded the Manuscript,
whence it was copied.' This document is written not only
phonetically, but also metrically Purchas calls it ' a
Musical Pilgrime ' easier, perhaps, to be remembered.
The author is practical, both as to money values, the dis-
tances from town to town, the time spent in travelling or
resting, the habits of the people, and the abundance or
scarcity of food and drink, and also as to relics worth seeing,
penances, pardons, and remissions. The business-like treat-
ment of the spiritual benefits is as amusing to us as it was
doubtless helpful to those for whom the book was intended.
Among particulars given of the way to Spain, we find that in
one village were ' foul wymmen mony oon ' ; in another,
' wymmen in that land use no vullen, but alle in lether
be thei wounden ' ; and in still another, ' wyn is thecke as
any blode,' ' tabelez use thei non of to ete, but on the bare
flore they make her sete,' and ' bedding ther is nothing
faire.' It is significant to read that in one region, where
Jews were lords, ' ther most thou tribute make or thou passe,
for alle thi gud bothe mor or lasse ' ; and elsewhere, ' In
that cite ther schalt thou paie passage or thou goe awaie.'
In the "Dale of Rouncevale,' which the pilgrim found 'a
derk passage,' we learn that ' Witelez there ben full necessary,
for in that passage my mouthe was dry.'

And thus over ' gret mountaines,' and ' heethes,' and
rivers, and through ' deepe dales,' towards the journey's
end:

And then to Sent Jamez that holy place :
There maie thou fynde full faire grace.

The pilgrim is directed around the ' gret Mynstor, large, and

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 19

strong ' ; to this chapel, and to that shrine ; here to get
forty days of pardon, and there no less than three hundred.
Every convenience awaited the pilgrim. Eight priests,
cardinals they were called, sat constantly, provided by
' the Popys graunting,' with full plain power, to hear con-
fessions and to give penance ; ' to assoyle the of alle thing.'
But of all this, more anon.

Under the hee autere lithe Sent Jame,
The table in the Quere telleth the name.

Of all English and American historians, few equal in im-
portance the judicious and painstaking Dr. Samuel Astley
Dunham. With the possible exception of Richard Eord,
none of his countrymen had a longer or more intimate ac-
quaintance with Spain than he ; and in the years 1832-3
he brought out in five volumes his History of Spain and
Portugal. It met with much approval, and less than ten
years later was translated into Spanish. The Dictionary of
National Biography says : ' This is still accounted the best
work on the subject in any language ' ; but the Encyclo-
paedia Britannica makes no mention whatever of the author
or his work. Ulick Burke in his History acknowledges some
indebtedness to him ; as also, by the way, to Henry Charles
Lea's History of the Inquisition in the Middle Ages (London,
1888), which he declares to be ' a perfect storehouse of know-
ledge, and a monument of painstaking and intelligent
research.' Had he lived to see Lea's four volumes on the
History of the Inquisition in Spain (Philadelphia, 1906-7), he
would have been pleased above measure. As an antidote to
Lea, Burke names Don Marcelino's Historia de los Heterodoxos
Espanoles (Madrid, 1880) ; but neither work has aught to
do with St. James, except possibly to illustrate the spirit
which was attributed to the Apostle. He himself was a
Son of Thunder 1

But outstripping all English sources of information are
the Spanish hagiographers and chroniclers; and naturally
so, for only they have full faith in what they write, a deter-
mination to glorify at all cost, rather than to censure, their
native land, and a fullness of knowledge uncontaminated by
criticism ; and from them all foreign authors borrow. They
provide the quarry, inexhaustible and authoritative, whence
may be hewn abundantly the massive and precious rocks of
legend and custom.

Of the Espana Sagrada, begun in 1747 by Enrique Florez,

20 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

at one time professor of theology in the University of Alcala,
and twenty-nine volumes of which appeared in the author's
lifetime, before 1773, no less than nine volumes are devoted
to the ecclesiastical antiquities of Galicia. In this tremen-
dous compilation of Spanish Church history, which attained
a European reputation, and the fifty-first volume of which
was published in 1886, were incorporated many ancient
chronicles and documents not easily accessible elsewhere.
Galicia, the erudite and industrious editor tells us, is the
oldest of all the kingdoms of Spain, dating back to the year
411, when it was established by the Suevi.

Among the documents preserved by Florez is the most
important of the early records of Compostella, beginning in
the year 1100, and written by Don Munio, a Spaniard, some-
times called Nufiio, and Don Hugo, a Frenchman by birth.
On their being made bishops in 1122, their work was taken
up by one named Girardo.

It may here be observed that the year 1100 is one of the
most important in the history of Compostella, and began a
period in which the city of St. James had its most glorious
days. Then Diego Gelmirez became the first of the line of
archbishops of Compostella : a man of varied and remark-
able attainments, of whom we shall presently hear much.
To Ms foresight and enterprise are due the first beginnings of
the Castilian navy, the cathedral of Compostella, and the
dockyard at Iria Flavia. He built ships as well as shrines ;
and established a mint at Compostella for the coining of
money to pay his artisans and labourers. An ardent lover
of scholarship, art, music, and sculpture, he has been called
the Maecenas of Galicia. Than he there have been few more
energetic gatherers of relics and other treasures ; and to him
we owe this most curious chronicle, the Historia Compostel-
lana, with its summary of the annals and antiquities of the
town and neighbourhood. Not only does Florez incorporate
in his Espana Sagrada this precious record, and the long lists
of the bishops of Galicia, as well as descriptions of the build-
ings begun by Gelmirez and finished after his time, but he
also preserves all the authentic facts belonging to the Apostle
which different popes, from Leo in., have. ratified.

Juan de Mariana, born at Talavera in 1536, published in
the years between 1592 and 1605 his Historiae de rebus His-
paniae, and so well was it received, that he himself translated
it from Latin into Spanish. An English version was brought
out in 1699. As a historian he had been preceded by Jero-

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 21

nimo Zurita y Castro, who, in 1562, wrote Anales de la corona
de Aragon, a work somewhat crabbed and dry in style, but
in authority unquestionable. Zurita is pronounced to have
been the first of those who wrote of events in Spain who cared
to trouble himself about the truth ; and he ranks higher
than any of his countrymen in all that constitutes the true
and sober historian. But his methods and example had little
influence on Mariana, whose popularity exceeded that of his.
Mariana travelled the same road as did his predecessors,
recklessly and believingly. ' I never undertook,' he says,
' to make a history of Spain in which I should verify every
particular fact ; for if I had I should never have finished. I
undertook only to arrange in a becoming style what others
had collected as material for the fabric I desired to raise.'
Watts, whose Spain is indeed worthy of quotation, says : ' In
this more modest design Mariana has been completely success-
ful. Except that he is not to be trusted for any single fact
or date, Mariana is one of the best of historians. His style
is admirable, though in parts careless and diffuse. . . . He
records, with admirable gravity and precision, the most fan-
tastic stories ; and believes everything he records miracles,
apparitions, heavenly interpositions in battle, improbable
feats of war, and the strangest tales of slaughter. For all
that Mariana is a delightful writer, who is justly reckoned
an honour to his country.'

No less industrious and credulous does Ambrosio de
Morales appear in his Cronico general de Espana, and in his
Viages, dated about 1586. He was as apt in delightful in-
ventions as Mariana, and had as implicit faith in the wonders
he records. Watts says : ' Morales is even more credulous,
thoroughly dull, and intolerably tedious.' Of one most
astounding miracle, which arouses the contempt of the most
sympathetic of modern readers, Mariana says that so great
an event never could have been believed at first without
sufficient evidence ; and Morales declares that ' none but a
heretic could doubt a fact which no man can dare to deny.'
These two authors are as definite and positive in their asser-
tions as is Mauro Castella Ferrer, in his Historia del Apostel de
Jesus Christo, Sanctiago Zebedeo, Patron y Capitan General de
las Espanas, published in 1610, and pronounced by Richard
Ford to be the best book on the whole subject. His name
reminds me, by the way, that there is a modern book, pub-
lished at Santiago, 1898, by Canon Antonio Lopez Ferreiro,
entitled Historia de la Santa Apostolica Metropolitan Iglesia

22 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

de Compostella, in which much may be found concerning the
Church, but little about the Apostle. Professor King does
not think over much of him. ' The late good canon, ' she says,
* was Sounder in theology than in judgment, and what he
prints cannot be accepted until verified. A good rule warns
never to trust the word of a pious man or the bed of a pious
woman.'

A like certainty may be found in the Description del Eeino
de Galicia, written in verse and, in 1550, published at Mon-
donedo, Mrs. Gallichan says, by Francisco Molina, canon of
the cathedral of Mondoiiedo ; Professor King says, by ' the
Licentiate Luis de Molina,' and speaks of an edition printed
at Madrid in 1675. The author is not likely to have been
Luis Molina, the famous Spanish theologian, born at Cuenca
in 1535. He who can labour through these long, wandering
lines of Molina deserves much praise, and may gain some
curious information;

More to be depended on than these Spanish writers is Juan
Francisco Masdeu, a Jesuit priest, who, in the years between
1744 and 1817, published in twenty volumes a Historia
critica de Espana y de la cultura espanola. The work was an
expansion of an earlier treatise, and was left unfinished.
Watts declares that Masdeu believes in almost everything,
accepting even the story of the voyage of St. James the
Greater to El Padron ; but he will not believe in the Cid.
In the Encyclopaedia Britannica we read : ' Masdeu wrote
in a critical spirit, and with a regard for accuracy rare in his
time ; but he is more concerned with small details than with
the philosophy of history. Still, his narrative is lucid, and
later researches have not yet rendered his work obsolete.'

Notwithstanding the apparent confidence and frequent
protestations of verity which characterize all these Spanish
historians and annalists, there seems to run through every
narrative or chronicle a fear that some readers may not have
faith. Perhaps at heart the writer had a suspicion that he
was asking a great deal. The incident alleged was so extra-
ordinary, that it was as much as he could do to accept it..
However, as it helped his purpose, he made the venture.
In every age, unbelievers live and express themselves. They
have to be reckoned with. In mediaeval times, when per-
suasion or argument failed, force was used ; and some men
died rather than be convinced against themselves. The
Koran pertinently asks : ' What wilt thou force men to
believe, when belief can come only from God ? '

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 23

In the year 1109, Guide, Archbishop of Vienne from about
1088, and elected Pope in 1119, adopting the name of
Calixtus IL, made a pilgrimage to Compostella ; and about
1140, an account of this visit, probably written in his name
by his chancellor, Almerico Picard, appeared under the
title of the Codex of Calixtus n. Three copies of the manu-
script are said to be in existence : one is at Compostella, and
another in Madrid. The five books of which it consists are
full of delightful and astonishing things, besides four homilies
by Pope Calixtus on the three great festivals of Santiago.
Here may be read with widening eyes and halting breath
descriptions of the miracles of the Apostle, and of his trans-
lation from Jerusalem to Spain. It is as invaluable as the
Historia Compostellana to all modern writers on St. James.

There is a host of other Spanish writers, but let these
suffice. No one can forget Jacobus de Voragine's Golden
Legend, compiled in the thirteenth century, and beloved and
believed for many generations ; nor the learned and diligent
Tillemont, whose ecclesiastical history of the first six cen-
turies won the praise of both Bossuet and Gibbon, and still
holds its own in popular esteem.

If in the pages of writers such as these, credulity or puer-
ility obtrudes itself, the reader may find relief in some
one of the eleven volumes of Kenelm Henry Digby's Mores
CatTiolici. Written in the fourth decade of the nineteenth
century, when men's minds were running like a mill-stream
back to distant times, this work is steeped in the lore of the
'Ages of Faith.' Its quotations from the Fathers, school-
men, and like writers, are thick as the autumnal leaves in
Vallombrosa. There is nothing strange or bewildering in
the borderless sea of legend and wonder that this devout
and learned author does not reduce to plausibility. More
especially does he commend pilgrimages as a means of grace,
and not least the one to the shrine of St. James the Great
at Compostella ; and you surmise that his heart quivered
with delectation as he saw in a niche over the door of an
ancient hostel at Fribourg in Switzerland, dedicated to
St. James, 'the image of a pilgrim with his bottle, cockle
hat, and staff.'

It should be observed that none of the works we have
mentioned and we refer more definitely to those of Spanish
origin, since they are by far the most importantclaim to
have been written before the eleventh century. They speak
of events which are alleged to have happened from two to

24 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

ten centuries earlier. Few of them undertake to give the
source whence they obtained the particulars which they
proclaim to be facts. They imply that these facts have been
always held, and are incontrovertible. Sometimes they
quote allusions or references in older writers to events or
conditions they describe ; but these allusions or references
are neither abundant nor ancient. Thus the oldest testi-
mony that St. James preached the Gospel in Spain is given
in a work De ortu ac obitu patrum qui in Scriptura laudibus
effemntur, said to have been written by the saintly Isidore,
Archbishop of Seville, who died in 636, about seventy-six
years old. Not only was De ortu none of his, but even had
it been, it would have had only a slight historical value, and
that under suspicion, as St. James's connection with Spain is
not mentioned by any earlier writer who had occasion to
speak of the dispersion of the Apostles, such as St. Augustine,
St. Jerome, or St. Ambrose. That the tradition is referred
to in a poem held to have been put forth by Aldhelm, bishop
of Sherborne, does not help, for Aldhelm died in 709, and,
again, no authority is alleged for his statement.

The translation of the foody to Spain is first told in a
martyrology, under July 25, compiled by Notker Balbulus,
a monk of St. Gall, and the author of the sequence used in
the burial office, ' In the midst of life/ He died in 912.
But from intimations by Venantius Fortunatus, bishop of
Poitiers, the author of a series of celebrated poems, we
gather that in his lifetime the body of St. James was still in
Palestine. Fortunatus died in 609, nearly eighty years of age.
He may have been insufficiently informed, but it is apparent
that he had not heard of the removal of the Apostle's body.

It does not, however, follow that the traditions them-
selves were of as late date as the chronicles of them. They
may have been in existence generations and centuries before
any one thought of writing them down in a record. Nor is
it unreasonable to suppose that some manuscripts or books,
earlier than the oldest we know of, may have perished and
been forgotten ; and it would be ungenerous, as well as un-
fair, to take it for granted that the authors of the manu-
scripts or books which remain were not honest, and did not
use their common sense or judgment, in making their asser-
tions. The reader must decide for himself. A statement
need not be taken as false because to some people it seems
incredible. If I did not know wireless telegraphy to be a
fact, I should not believe it possible.

THE SOURCES OF AUTHORITY 25

The Encyclopaedia Britannica concludes its article on
'Hagiology' with a quotation from Gross's Sources and
Literature of English History, which may well be given
here : * Though the lives of saints are filled with miracles and
incredible stories, they form a rich mine of information con-
cerning the life and customs of the people. Some of them
are " memorials of the best men of the time written by the
best scholars of the time." '

No one is likely to go over the authorities I have named,
and I might easily have multiplied them many times. It
would not be worth one's while. Even to read the article
on the subject in the Acta Sanctorum, perhaps the most
critical and valuable of all works of the kind, to say nothing
of Morales, is more than should be expected. My purpose in
dealing with the sources of authority scarcely goes beyond
the desire to illustrate the abundance of the evidence. I
do not wish any one to suppose that the literature concern-
ing St. James of Compostella is scanty or insignificant.

Only this : he who would read of legends and miracles,
and in doing so holds that the common meaning of the
English word ' invention ' is an exhaustive or exact trans-
lation of the Latin word whence it comes, has a prejudice
of which he may well free himself. If he succeeds, he will
be at least more comfortable. Let the wonderful and fruit-
ful discovery by St. Helena, the mother of Constantino the
Great, be kept in mind. No more fascinating story could
be desired than that told in the Golden Legend of the planting
by Seth of the branch of the tree of which Adam had the
misfortune to eat. An angel gave Seth this branch out
of Eden, and bade him take it to Lebanon. Adam had
recently died, and the tree was set over his grave. It took
root, and flourished abundantly. Solomon cut it down, and
put it in his house, where the Queen of Sheba saw it, wor-
shipped it, and told the king that the Saviour of the world
would be hanged on it. So the king had it buried deep in
the ground on which the Temple stood. Years after a pit
was dug there for the washing of the beasts that were to be
offered as sacrifices. At the bottom of the pit lay the tree,
till the time of the Passion of our Lord approached. Then
it floated to the surface ; and out of it the Jews made the
cross on which Christ died. Then it was buried again, and
remained in the earth for two hundred years, when it was
found by the Empress Helena. In due time it was broken
up, and now no man can tell the number of its bits scattered

26 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

in every part of the world. It was a marvellous invention.
Long since the lexicographers told us that 'the restricted
application of the word "invention" to the finding out
what does not at present exist, as distinguished from " dis-
covery," the finding out of what does already exist, is quite
modern.'

CHAPTER III

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS

THE Golden Legend tells the story of a St. James the Martyr,
surnamed Intercisus, whose name does not appear in Sacred
Scripture. Born in Persia, though of Christian parents and
married to a Christian wife, he became chief among the
princes of the kingdom. Unlike Daniel, he fell from grace
and adored the idols ; but the reproach of his mother and wife
brought him back to the true faith. He was speedily called
to martyrdom.

In the New Testament there are five persons called by the
name of James. Of three of these men little is known, and
that little is barely sufficient to distinguish them one from
another. We may dismiss them in a few words.

James, the son of Alphaeus, was one of the Twelve, and
so appears in each of the four lists. Could Alphaeus be taken
for Clopas, which seems extremely improbable, this James
might be identified with the James who is described as the
son of Mary, which Mary is thought to have been the wife
of Clopas. St. Mark expressly calls the son of Mary James
the Less, or James the Little, perhaps referring to his stature.
It does not follow, however, that this James is the one spoken
of by the Fathers, or thought of by the Church, as the Less ;
nor is it certain that Clopas is the same as Cleophas, or that
Mary was the sister of the Blessed Virgin. Much less need
we suppose that the Epistle known as that of James, a bond-
servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ, was written by
this James or by any one of the number spoken of under
that name in the Gospels.

Into the same inextricable confusion comes a James, by
some scholars taken as one of the three just mentioned, but
who is also called, as though he had a personality to himself,
the son or brother of Judas. This Judas does not seem to
be that Judas whom some traditions state to have been a son
of Joseph, the spouse of the Blessed Virgin, but rather the
Judas who was known among the Twelve, by St. Matthew
and St. Mark, as Labbaeus, whose surname was Thaddaeus.

a?

28 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

St. John carefully distinguishes him from the traitor, ' not
Iscariot.' According to modern scholarship, we may rest
satisfied that this Judas was not the author of the Epistle
entitled that of ' Jude,' even though the author styles him-
self a brother of James.

However uncertain the little that is known of any one of
these three persons bearing the name of James, if there were
three, it is clear enough that none of them has to do with
our subject.

The two men of this name remaining differ unmistakably
the one from the other. With the first of these two, some
authorities, such as the Catholic Encyclopaedia, identify the
three individuals already referred to, so that all uncertainty
is obliterated, or at least becomes unnecessary of notice.
If this conjecture be true, which we do not allow, after all
there is only one James, except the other who became beyond
all question the Saint of Compostella. To be sure is not
possible ; nor does it matter for our purpose. It may be
that the title of the ' Less ' was applied to him more rightly
than to James the son of Mary and Clopas, if there were such
a person, so as to discriminate between him and the James
who was called undeniably the ' Great.' We shall speak of
him as ' James the Less/

Much may be said, and for clearness' sake something
should be said, of this James the Less.

In the New Testament and in several of the Apocryphal
writings, he is spoken of as * the Lord's brother ' an ex-
pression which still lacks conclusive interpretation. It is
said that, besides this James, our Lord had three brothers,
Judas, Simon, and Joses or Joseph or Josetos. These four
brothers may have been the children of Joseph by a former
wife ; or the children of Joseph and the Blessed Virgin ; or
the children of Mary, wife of Clopas, thought by some, but
probably wrongly, to have been the sister of Mary the wife
of Joseph.

The first conjecture is popularly accepted as the most
satisfactory of the three, perhaps because it accords with the
dogma of Mary's perpetual virginity, in early ages questioned,
but now universally and reasonably adopted. If the con-
jecture be true, this James is our Lord's half-brother at all
events, so far as Jewish legal phraseology went. So it was
held in very early times. In the Protoevangelium, one of
the Infancy Gospels, and as old as the second century, when
urged by the Temple priests to accept Mary as his wife,

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 29

Joseph is recorded to have declared : ' I have sons, and I am
an old man ' ; and in a fourth- or fifth-century manuscript
called the ' History of Joseph/ it is said that, before his
espousal to Mary of Nazareth, ' Joseph was of Bethlehem :
he was a carpenter, and married, and had four sons, Judas,
Josetos, James, Simon, and two daughters, Lysia and Lydia.
His wife died, leaving James still young.' Two years Joseph
passed with Mary before the Nativity. The same ' History '
states that ' Mary brought up James, and was called Mary
of James.' The names of the two daughters make this
account extremely suspicious. Nothing in the New Testa-
ment is recorded of Joseph after the Visit to Jerusalem,
when Jesus was twelve years old, and it is therefore supposed
that Joseph died soon after.

If the Infancy Gospels can be trusted, Jesus was brought
up with these other children of Joseph, or more certainly
with James, who was not much older than Himself. He is
said to have wrought many miracles which astonished and
perplexed all who knew Him, but which do not seem to have
convinced anybody that He was more than an adept at magic.
It is written, indeed, of His mother, that, after one of these
miracles, ' she, when she saw it, was amazed, and embraced
Him and kissed Him. ' Others, when He had done them some
remarkable favour, ' marvelled and gave thanks unto Him.'
But this does not mean that either His mother or they
believed in Him as the Son of God.

Among these wonders done by Him in His boyhood one
directly affected James. There are two versions, both of
second-century date, which we may blend together. In
one of them we are told that Joseph sent James to gather
straw ; in the other, he sent him to bind fuel and carry it
into the house. The Child Jesus followed him. As James
gathered the straw, or the faggots, a viper bit his hand, and
he fell to the ground as dead by means of the venom. But
when Jesus saw that James was sore afflicted and ready to
perish, He came near and breathed upon the wound, and
straightway the pain ceased, and the serpent burst, and
James was made whole. There is not in this anything
necessarily supernatural, though undoubtedly the narrator
thought there was. The ' breathing ' may have had a quality
or efficacy of its own. Possibly the act was otherwise than
it appeared. An English queen, Eleanor of Castile, wife of
Edward i., is said to have saved the life of her husband by
sucking the wound made in battle with the Saracens by a

30 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

poisoned arrow or a poisoned knife. But this may be as
unhistorical as the legend, told in a sixteenth-century ballad,
that this same queen, by way of punishment for her pride,
sank into the ground at Charing Cross and rose with life
again at Queenhithe in London.

Notwithstanding these astonishing boyhood days of
Christ, and the signs He accomplished during His ministry,
to say nothing of His more wonderful words, the New
Testament positively affirms that His friends or kinsmen
held that He was beside Himself : ' neither did His brethren
believe in Him.' This statement necessarily includes James,
and refers to the authority and position claimed by Jesus.
By this time, maturity of years had come to James, and he
seems to have been highly respected by the Jews as much
after his conversion to Christianity as before ; that is to say,
if, writing about the middle of the second century,Hegesippus,
a Christian of Jewish origin, and still observing the old
Jewish law, may be trusted. Hegesippus thus describes
him and of this extract, as of others we shall presently give,
though the Jewish Encyclopaedia is doubtful, the Catholic
Encyclopaedia holds that ' his narrative is highly probable '
that ' James was called the " Just," that he drank no wine
nor strong drink, nor ate animal food, that no razor touched
his head, that he did not anoint himself or make use of the
bath, and lastly that he was put to death by the Jews.' We
shall quote this passage more exactly and more fully later on.
By the ' bath ' we presume is meant the warm bath, a thing
too luxurious for an ascetic. And we shall also tell of the
death.

But again the legends become contradictory. As Mrs.
Jameson reminds us : ' According to an early tradition,
James so nearly resembled our Lord in person, in features
and deportment, that it was difficult to distinguish them.
" The Holy Virgin herself," says the legend, " had she been
capable of error, might have mistaken one for the other " ;
and this exact resemblance rendered necessary the kiss of
the traitor Judas, in order to point out his victim to the
soldiers.' This story, of course, involves the supposition
that James the Brother of the Lord was present in the Garden
of Gethsemane at the time of the Passion, even though the
sacred narrative implies that the James present was one of
the favoured Three. We do not attempt to explain this
exceptional legend.

Not till after the Resurrection of Christ did faith come to

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 31

this James. St. Paul refers to the appearance of Jesus to
James, as though to him alone ; but he says nothing of the
conversion which is supposed to have followed the appear-
ance. However, in the ' Gospel according to the Hebrews,
one of the oldest and most valuable of the post-Apostolic
writings, it is said that James had sworn that he would not
eat bread from that hour wherein he had drunk the Lord's
cup until he had seen Him risen again from among them that
sleep. I do not understand the expression ' the Lord's cup,'
unless it refers to the Holy Communion. If James were
present at the institution of that sacrament, not only was
he already a disciple, but also one of the Twelve ; and if so,
he may have been James, the son of Alphaeus, or James the
Less, the son of Mary, wife of Clopas. This suggestion runs
contrary to the traditions which deny both that he was one
of the Twelve, and also that he believed in Jesus before
His appearance after the Resurrection. Moreover, James's
declaration suggests that he understood when Christ foretold
the breaking of the three days' rest in death, which no one
else in the world did. They who first saw the Lord after
His coming forth from the tomb were surprised beyond
measure. It was the last thing they expected. Perhaps I
am not rightly interpreting the words James is said to have
used : the translation or the reading before me may be
faulty.

At all events, according to this famous legend, as it is
quoted by St. Jerome from the ancient Gospel, which he says
Origen often used, our Lord, ' when He had given the linen
cloth unto the servant of the priest,' went unto James and
appeared to him. After a little while, He directed him to
provide a table and bread. Then, so the narrative reads :
4 He took bread, and blessed and brake and gave it unto
James the Just, and said unto him : " My brother, eat thy
bread, for the Son of Man is risen from among them that
sleep." '

St. John the Evangelist records a similar story of the Risen
Lord's appearance to Thomas, called Didymus. There is
no reason to suppose that the one tradition is a variant of
the other, or that both revelations did not actually happen.

In spite of his recent conversion, St. James almost im-
mediately rose to prominence in the Christian community.
At the same time, as I have already stated, he appears to
have retained the kindly respect of his former religious
associates. Thus Hegesippus writes : ' James, the brother

32 THE CULT OP SANTIAGO

of the Lord, succeeded to the government of the Church in
conjunction with the Apostles. He was holy from his
mother's womb : he drank no wine, nor did he eat flesh.
No razor came upon his head, nor did he anoint himself with
oil or use any bath. He alone was permitted to enter the
Holy Place, for he wore not woollen, but linen garments ;
he was in the h'abit of entering alone into the Temple, and
was frequently found upon his knees praying for forgiveness
of the people, so that his knees became hard as those of a
camel.' Hegesippus, as quoted by Eusebius, also tells us,
that ' because of his exceeding great justice he was called
" the Just " " Jacob, the bulwark of his people." ' The
man must have been of much worth and some position and
influence to have occasioned such encomiums from both
Jew and Christian. The Jewish Encyclopaedia declares that
the Essene character of James the Less seems to rest on
authentic tradition. But, on the other hand, no one doubts
his loyalty to the Church of Jesus Christ.

He becomes bishop of Jerusalem, and is called by St. Paul
a pillar of the Church. In later years, doubtless remembering
his efficiency and sacrifice, men spoke of him with much
reverence as a bishop of bishops. He seems to have presided
in the first Council of the Church, and to have been listened
to with respect, and his sentence adopted without further
discussion. The Epistle of St. James is attributed to him,
very doubtfully so ; so is the oldest of the Infancy Gospels,
called by Origen, in the second century, the ' Book of James,'
and now styled the * Protoevangelium.' An Apocalypse,
pretended to have been found in a library at Jerusalem, is
supposed to have been by him. One citation remains : * As
James the brother of the Lord said in his Apocalypse.' In
a Coptic Apocrypha, of uncertain date and slight value, and
of which little is known, is given ' a revelation of James the
Less, telling how the Lord revealed the glory of John Baptist
in the other world, where he figures as the ferryman of the
blessed souls.' His discourses, said to have been delivered
by him to the people from the Temple stairs, were preserved
in a book called the ' Ascents of James ' ; but Epiphanius,
in the latter part of the fourth century, styles the book
* supposititious,' and says that it represented St. James * as
speaking against the Temple and the sacrifices, and the fire on
the altar ; and many other things full of empty sound.'
There is also a document called the ' Questions of St. James
the brother of the Lord to St. John ' ; the fragments which

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 33

remain are of little worth. In all probability, St. James the
Less did not write any of these books or treatises, and yet
their ascription to him indicates his high position and the
honour in which he was held.

A prologue attached to some of the copies of one of the
Infancy Gospels may be given here. It was used by the
celebrated Hrosvita, abbess of Gandersheim, in her poems
in the tenth century, much too late to be of any consequence.
' I, James the son of Joseph, walking in the fear of God, have
written all things that I saw with mine own eyes come to
pass at the time of the birth of Saint Mary the Virgin or of
the Lord the Saviour ; giving thanks to God who gave me
understanding in the histories of His coming, showing forth
the fullness of time unto the twelve tribes of Israel/

In the legends which deal with the Assumption of the
Blessed Virgin Mary, St. James is given a part. The stories
are curious enough, and show rather recklessness of imagina-
tion than ingenuity. For instance, ten or fifteen years after
the Resurrection, the Virgin bade John, with whom she had
continued to live all those years, to summon Peter and James.
They sat down before her, and she reminded them of the
life of Jesus, and went on to say that Jesus had come to her
and warned her that her time was accomplished : ' She
slumbered and saw a beautiful youth about thirty years of
age/ and 'she perceived that it was Jesus.' 'I will hide
thy body in the earth,' said Jesus ; ' no man shall find it
until the day when I raise it incorruptible. A great church
shall be built over it/ Among the arrangements to be
made, she directed James to buy spices and perfumes.

According to a discourse alleged to have been written by
St. John the Divine, before she died the leading men of the
Church, some of whom had already passed away, were sum-
moned to witness the event. At the bidding of St. Peter,
who had come from Rome for this purpose, St. James told
the manner of his call and journey : ' While I was in Jeru-
salem the Holy Ghost admonished me, saying : Be th'ou
present at Bethlehem, for the mother of thy Lord maketh
her departure. And lo, a cloud of light caught me up and
brought me unto you. ' All the witnesses came to Bethlehem
in like fashion : from their several countries, from the ends
at the world, on the clouds. They gathered around the bed
at the dying Virgin, St. James the Less among them, and
offered incense and prayer. ' And when they had prayed
there came a thunder from hjeaven and a terrible sound as

o

34 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

of chariots, and lo, a multitude of the host of angels and
powers, and a voice as of the Son of man was heard, and the
Seraphim came round about the house wherein the holy and
spotless Mother of God, the Virgin, lay ; so that all that
were in Bethlehem beheld all the marvellous sights, and
went to Jerusalem and declared all the wonderful things that
were come to pass.' It does not appear that any other
person of the name of James was present when ' her spotless
and precious body was translated into paradise.' Some of
the narratives state that all the Apostles went up into
Paradise with her. They were brought back. ' Then the
Apostles were taken up upon clouds and returned every one
unto the lot of his preaching.' For some reason or other
not so much as suggested, St. James the son of Zebedee was
not brought out of his grave to take any part in these events.
St. James the Less once more took up his work in Jerusalem.

Josephus states that James the Just was put to death in
the year 62, soon after the death of Porcius Festus, pro-
curator of Judea, and about twenty years, as we shall see,
after the death of James the Great. Clement of Alexandria,
writing in the beginning of the third century, says that he
' was cast from a wing of the Temple, and beaten to death
with a fuller's club.' Josephus writes more fully : ' The
younger Anan, a high priest belonging to the sect of the
Sadducees, who are very rigid in judging offenders, had
James, the brother of Jesus, the so-called " Christ," together
with some of his companions, brought before the Sanhedrin
on the\ charge of having broken the Law, and had them de-
livered over to be stoned. This act of Anan caused indig-
nation among the citizens best known for their fairness and
loyalty.' ' Eusebius cites the Jewish historian as holding
that the miseries of the siege of Jerusalem, which followed
in short time, were due to the divine vengeance for the murder
of James. Josephus died about A.D. 95.

But Hegesippus has much more. He tells of the modera-
tion of James in his teaching. Perhaps some of the Jews
misunderstood him, and because of his continued attach-
ment to Jewish principles and practices, evidently holding
back from the full abandonment of the ancient Law advo-
cated by St. Paul, did not regard him as fully given over to
the worship of the Nazarene. Yet one Passover season,
troubled at some of his public utterances, ' the Scribes and
the Pharisees,' Hegesippus declares, ' fearing lest the people
would all be led over to the belief in Jesus, asked James to

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 35

place himself upon a wing of the Temple, and address the
people assembled there on account of the Passover, and per-
suade them not to be led astray.' But James did not prove
Mmself as amenable as the authorities had hoped for. He
was flung down from the high place. Before dying, as though
he recalled the words of Christ, he cried: 'Lord, God,
Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do ! '
Many a time since other confessors of the Faith have uttered
the same petition. 'And one of the Rechabites cried out :
" Cease ! What do ye 1 The Just One prayeth for you ! "
Then one of the crowd, a fuller, took the club with which he
beat out clothes, and struck the just man on the head. Thus
he suffered martyrdom. They buried him on the spot by
the Temple where his monument still remains. Immediately
after this, Vespasian besieged them.'

As in the fearful calamity of A.D. 70 Titus swept Jerusalem
away, even as a man shaves the beard from off his face, Hege-
sippus seems to have made a venture when he speaks of the
monument being there in his time*. But, on the other hand,
Eusebius, writing in the fourth century, affirms that at
Jerusalem in his day was still shown St. James's episcopal
ch'air.

St. James is usually pictured as leaning on a club, the in-
strument of his martyrdom. Mrs. Jameson does not think
that he ever became popular as a patron saint. She de-
scribes a series of frescoes in a chapel at Padua, dedicated to
him, in which are set forth six legends attributed to him.
Two of these stories we have not spoken of ; and as these
two are sometimes told of St. James the Great, to whom
they do not belong, they are given here. Neither of them
need be taken literally, but both of them illustrate the kind
of man St. James was thought to be.

In the one we are told that a certain merchant, stripped
of all his goods by a tyrant, and cast into prison, implored
the help of St. James. The saint, moved by his misery and
importunity, came to his rescue. Then one of two things
happened. Either the saint led the prisoner to the summit
of the tower, and the tower bowed itself to the ground and
the merchant stepped from it, or he brought the prisoner
to the ground-level of the tower, and then lifted the tower
on one side from its foundation, and the prisoner escaped
from under it, like a mouse out of a trap. Probably the
merchant was so happy and surprised at his deliverance
that he could not recall how he got out of the tower, either

36 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

from the top or from the bottom. Grateful enough was he
to be freed at all. According to one version of the legend,
which would ascribe the miracle to St. James the Great, the
man carried his chains to the church of Compostella, and
presented them as a votive offering.

, The other legend must have been of much comfort and
encouragement to all wayfarers bent on a religious journey.
A poor pilgrim, having neither money nor food, and worn
out by hunger and fatigue, fell fast asleep by the roadside.
When he opened his eyes, he saw beside him a loaf of bread.
How he knew that St. James had set it there is not told, but
this is not quite so wonderful as the fact that the same loaf
was sufficient for all his wants till he had reached the shrine
where he would be.

It will be remembered that St. James the Less is commemo-
rated with St. Philip on May 1st Old May Bay ! The
Fulness of the Springtide ! Flowers, and games, and
dancing ! The two saints are so coupled in the Lectionary
of St. Jerome and in the Sacramentary of Gregory, as in the
Roman and Anglican Liturgies. No satisfactory reason has
been given for this association of names. Nor has either
the so-called Greek Liturgy of St. James or the Syriac
Liturgy of St. James, though of early date, and of much
worth and interest, any other than a traditional connection
with this Apostle.

Nor does there seem to be anything clearly certain as to
the disposition of his remains. The confusion which sur-
vived from primitive times, and which prevailed in the
Middle Ages between him and St. James the Great, especially
in Spain, and earlier between the men known as St. James
the Less, or St. James the brother of the Lord, and St. James
the son of Alphaeus, is difficult to untangle, and on this
point perplexes us as badly as ever. The difficulty is in-
creased by a statement in a somewhat obscure chronicle
that not St. James the Great, as will appear farther on,
but St. James the Less, was commissioned by St. Peter,
acting under orders from the Blessed Virgin, to attend to
the interests of the Church in Spain. And, in spite of the
declaration of Hegesippus that St. James the Less, bishop
of Jerusalem, was buried near the Temple, Theodosius, a
pilgrim and the author of a Topography of the Holy Land,
writing about 530, says that he was buried on Mount Olivet,
in a tomb that he had himself built, and in which were also
placed Zacharias and Simeon. Theodosius was probably

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 37

thinking of St. James the son of Zebedee ; though why a
Galilean should build a sepulchre near Jerusalem is now
past finding out. Thirty or forty years later, another
pilgrim made a note on the spot, that the grave of the son
of Zebedee was on Mount Olivet ; both writers making the
same mistake.

For there are legends enough to show, as we shall see later,
that the body of James the Great had been taken to Spain
centuries earlier, at least, with the exception of his head,
which John of Wiirtzburg, writing about 1165, says re-
mained in Palestine, and was still shown to pilgrims. This
assertion is open to dispute. However, in 1321, still another
traveller, Marino Sanuto by name, relates that in Jerusalem,
near the Virgin's tomb, is the sepulchre of St. James the
Less, where the Christians buried him after the Jews had
cast him down from the Temple. He also tells us that this
James the Less was ordained bishop of Jerusalem in the
same Upper Room where the Lord's Supper was instituted,
St. Matthias was elected, and the Holy Ghost descended.
Theodosius, however, had written eight hundred years
before this, that the Lord had ordained St. James bishop
with His own hand.

We seem to be getting to the facts. But, in spite of all
to the contrary that has been so far discovered, we find
that ages earlier the head of St. James the Less had been
brought from Jerusalem to Spain, by an archbishop of
Braga. I am not sure when ; nor do I know the name of
the archbishop. But in the year 1116, Queen Urraca, a
faithless and incapable sovereign, but restless and energetic
withal, the daughter of Alfonso vi. of Castile and Leon, and
the mother of Alfonso vn., gave it, or at least the head of
St. James Alphaeus, which was the same thing, to her
friend and favourite Diego Gelmirez, bishop of Coinpo-
stella, who, with great ceremony and tremendous apprecia-
tion, carried the head to Compostella, laid it on the altar
of the cathedral, and performed appropriate rites. John of
Wiirtzburg testifies to this : and he was there not more than
sixty years later. It was then kept in a silver coffer. Some-
how or other, as we may discover further on, the church at
Carri6n had secured the head either of St. James the Great
or of St. James the Less. As long as it was possible, it was
the former. Then it was removed to Compostella ; and in
time both heads were shown there. I confess myself utterly
unable to keep these heads straight. It is not the fault

38 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

of the heads, but of the contradictory or fragmentary
records. Or I cannot read them aright.

In the old metrical guide which we have already quoted,
it is said that in the south side of the cathedral :

' Ther men maie se of Sent Jamez the lesse,
His heed in Gold araied freche :
To the wiche Pilgrymez her offeryng make,
For the more Sent Jamez sake.'

It will be remembered that in Caxton's edition of the
Golden Legend mention is made of the Life of St. James
the More.

The pilgrims believed that the gold-enclosed head was
there, but I am ignorant of its whereabouts now. Still less,
if that be possible, do I know what the Empress Matilda,
the daughter of Henry i. of England, and the mother of
Henry n., did with the bones of one of the hands of St.
James, which she is said to have taken away from Compo-
stella, on a pilgrimage there in the year 1125. These are
extremely difficult things to trace.

It is possible, indeed probable, and nothing can be easier,
that all these legends will be dismissed by many people,
perhaps contemptuously most likely, as being frivolous
rather than interesting. By such readers they will be
thought undeserving of the time taken up in recording them :
such time is sorely wasted. I shall not dispute such an
opinion.

But no matter whether behind such stories truth or
fiction be present, or be taken for granted as present, for
many centuries, and in the most civilized countries of Europe,
as well as in the most ignorant, they were regarded with
reverence, and quoted as authority by men of scholarship
and religion. High dignitaries in both State and Church,
leaders of thought and action, kings, prelates, soldiers, and
legislators, saw reason to accept them, and none to reject
them. Moreover, stories and traditions of this kind served
to make to the people more vivid and more intimate the
events and persons of distant lands and times. I have told
them, however, not so much for any sympathy I may have
with such conditions, or for any beauty they may have in
themselves, or for any interpretation or explanation to
which they may lend themselves, as from a desire to meet
and contradict the tendency to confuse legends of St. James
the Less with stories that belong to St. James the Great.

CHIEFLY OF JAMES THE LESS 39

The men were distinct one from the other ; each with an
individuality and career of his own, even though the same
legends are sometimes attributed to both or to one or other
of them, indifferently, over hastily, and without authority.
The confusion should be avoided, if for no other reason than
for the obvious and tautological certainty that confusion
always confuses.

CHAPTER IV
FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD

ST. JAMES the Great, the Genius of Compostella and the
subject of our study, only remains ; and of him, at the
outset, we shall give all that is recorded in the New
Testament.

Of the two sons of Zebedee, James seems to have been
the elder : at any rate, in the best texts he is always named
before his brother John ' James and John, the sons of
Zebedee.' It is possible that at the time they come
into sight, Jonas, or John as he is sometimes called, the
father of Simon and Andrew, was dead. The house at
Capernaum is no longer known as his : but as that of Simon
and Andrew once as ' Peter's house,' and once as ' Simon's
house.' The sons of Jonas and the sons of Zebedee were
partners in the fishing trade, as probably their fathers had
been before them. This is shown at the time of the miracu-
lous draught of fishes. Two boats were standing by the
lake. Jesus went into one of them, ' which was Simon's ' ;
and at His bidding Simon launched out |nto the deep. The
nets enclosed a great multitude of fishes, and began to
break. ' And they beckoned unto their partners, which
were in the other ship, that they should come and help them.'
Both boats were filled to sinking point. Simon was astonished
as never before. ' So was also James, and John, the sons
of Zebedee, which were partners with Simon.' This was
in the beginning of Christ's ministry, and preceded the call
of the partners to discipleship. Later, after His ministry
had ended, and before the consecration of Pentecost, Jesus
revealed Himself again by another great draught of fishes.
At the one time the nets began to break ; at the other, ' for
all there were so many, yet was not the net broken.'

Evidently, after the death of his father, Simon took the
lead in the family business ; he, an energetic, positive,
aggressive sort of man, one who would have his say and
make himself felt wherever he was ; and Andrew, quieter,
more dependent, less obtrusive, and more inclined to take

40

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 41

the background. Zebedee still held his hand on affairs ;
a man of importance in the community. His sons were
called ' the sons of Zebedee,' as frequently as ' James and
John.' Nor do we doubt that the social relationship of the
members of the two families was as happy as were their
commercial ties.

Into the question whether any kinship either of blood or
by marriage existed between them, or with Mary and Joseph
of Nazareth, though some scholars have been inclined to
think so, we may not enter. We need only keep in mind
that the sons of Jonas and of Zebedee were closely con-
nected, and that Jesus was well known to them. Indeed,
beyond question, all were friends, and had been such through
.the years of youth before the Gospel story begins.

The fishing industry of Galilee furnished occupation to
large numbers of people, both native and foreign. The sea
swarmed with a fish, small and delicate, which could be
preserved and used, much as we preserve and use the
modern sardine. Galilean fishermen, and they only,
scoured the lake, caught the fish, and brought them to the
warehouses scattered here and there in the towns and
villages on the shore. Here, bought by Greek traders, the
fish were dried or put in oil, and packed in barrels or little
tubs, wooden or earthenware, and shipped to countries
beyond the great sea, even to Rome itself. Thus, speaking
different languages, observing customs strange to each
other, and holding to widely varying religious cults, two
races at least were brought into contact. They could
scarcely have helped learning something from each other.
The captains of the fishing fleets knew enough Greek to
transact business with the people who bought their goods.
They were familiar to some extent with the methods, habits,
machinery, and pastimes of the strangers settled among
them. The country, or at anyrate the business folk of
the country, became bilingual : Aramaic and Greek. The
rabbis could read Hebrew, at that time a dead language, and
merchants and soldiers had some acquaintance with Latin.
Galilee had no Temple ; nor did its rites and customs have
place in the synagogue. The community grew up largely
unaccustomed to the ceremonies and traditions of the one,
and closely familiar with the freedom of speech and breadth
of thought common to the other. The observance of
ancient and distant habits became less rigid. Among all
classes in the community, a kindly respect, a toleration,

42 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

even a deference, probably made itself felt. At all events,
the religious and social atmosphere of Galilee had in it a
mildness and geniality almost unknown in Judea.

With this result the humble, toiling fisherman of the
Lake of Gennesaret had something to do, and it affected
them in turn much to their advantage. Even more decidedly
do James and John seem to come under these influences :
perhaps Peter also, though his tenacity and stubbornness
held him back from development to the same extent. It
was harder for him to approach the truth concerning that
Gentile world, than for the sons of Zebedee. Possibly my
interpretation is too venturesome, but I imagine James and
John possessed of wider vision, say, of a culture approach-
ing that of St. Paul, and of a generosity exceeding even his.
They had their limitations, of course, for after all they were
toilers rather than thinkers : fishermen, face to face with
life in some of its severest aspects, and not scholars or men
of wealth and estate able to gratify mind and body to the
fullness of power and desire. But in their own class they
were of the first rank ; and not least among their advan-
tages they were Galileans and not Judeans.

I do not advance this conception of the Saint of Compo-
stella without purpose. That purpose will become apparent
by and by. St. James the Great did not begin life among
either the princely of earth or the helplessly poor and
ignorant of earth, but rather in the class that really holds
the world together, out of which genius grows and into
which hope rises.

It may be remembered that of the Twelve Apostles, eleven
were of Galilee, and only one of Judea. Of the eleven
Galileans, four were fishermen, and three of the four chief
of the whole company. The one man from Judea sold and
betrayed his Master. But do not make too much of this.
Saul of Tarsus was a Jew and a Pharisee, a strict observer
of the Law, and had sat at the feet of Gamaliel.

We look back again to the bright skies of the north.
Zebedee seems to have been among the successful men of
his calling. He not only owned a boat of his own, but he
also employed hired servants. That he appreciated the
teaching of the young Rabbi from Nazareth, is shown by
the readiness with which he gave up his two sons. At least
he is not recorded as making any remonstrance or any
appeal to affection. The man, his boys and his servants,
were mending their nets : a busy scene that bright, happy

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 43

morning, for such I fancy it to be, the mountains yonder ;
the green, stream-washed valleys ; the quiet, rippling, blue
waters ; the low western shore with its sands and broken
boulders, its bending trees, its anchorages dotted here and
there with little boats, and its stained and yellowed walls ;
the fishing craft far away, with sails bleached and browned
in the sun and scarcely stirred by the wind, trailing and
dragging limp and empty nets ; and over all, the deep,
boundless sky, a picture that heaven itself might envy.

The mending of the nets goes on ; the merry talk, the
gossip, the story. Serious-minded and light-hearted people
these ! They have to toil, but they can also laugh and sing.
The same the world and the ages over! On the sea of
Galilee, the shallows of the Nile and the bends of the Ganges,
the bay of Naples, the coast of Cornwall, the rivers of Maine ;
in the days when men made nets of grass and hooks of
bone, even to this present time, just the same ! Men and
women, boys and girls, pass them hither and thither : some
busy, some playful. To see the picture once is to see it
for ever !

And, lo, the Rabbi from Nazareth comes near ! Perhaps
He speaks to the men He knows so well : the greeting of
the day, the tidings from home, the promise of the mission
on which His heart is bent, and in which they have no little
interest. No one now can tell this. Then the silence,
one of God's silences, in which God speaks, and neither
sound is heard nor motion seen. All is still. The birds on
the wing seem to stay their flight. The young men are
thinking, and God's grace is moving towards the fulfilment
of His will. They look to Him. His love passes into their
soul. So still ! And the Master calls : ' Follow me ! '

The sons of Zebedee understood. There was nothing
else to do. Life had changed. The needle and the meshes
drop from their hands. So they followed Him early
among the great multitude that in the ages to come should
at His call and for His sake likewise leave father and mother,
brethren and sisters, houses and lands ; all that they had,
even life itself.

I do not know that this meant that the sons of Zebedee
severed themselves then and there absolutely from all
affairs of the common life ; that never again did they cast
nets or sum up accounts. The incident at the sea of Tiberias
soon after the Resurrection of Christ implies that both they
and St. Peter still had some hold on their earlier vocation.

44 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

They had to have bread to eat and raiment to put on ; and
there were no supplies to be had that they did not provide
for themselves. But it was possible, and is still so, to
regard securing the means of livelihood as secondary in a
man's life, and subservient to a higher and more spiritual
or intellectual calling. The disciples had to give up much
and to change most things, but to what extent did not at
first appear. Nor do I suppose that before the ' power ' was
given them at Pentecost, and their dispersion was brought
about, the Apostles spent all their time in the company of
Jesus. Probably they were with Him only when He went
on His journeys. But from the moment they obeyed His
call, they became marked men. They took their stand
beside Him. They held the truth He taught, and they were
ready to give life itself for Him. This meant sacrifice :
social, most likely, and family in some instances. Thus
much we know, that in some more than ordinary way the
disciples followed Him, not only as adherents but as advo-
cates, now as scholars, by and by as teachers ; at first to
receive power and authority, and later in His name to
exercise control and command. It is doubtful if the dis-
ciples thought as far ahead as this. They expected the
immediate coming of a kingdom in which all things
temporal would be changed, and Christ would give them
to share the glory with Him which should never have an
ending.

They were noble and thoughtful men, James and John,
and out of a home where we may be sure Jesus was believed
in and loved. Of Zebedee I know no more. He may have
died not long after the call of his sons, and tradition passes
him by. But Salome is spoken of as one of the women in
Galilee who ministered to Jesus of their substance. Indeed,
she remained steadfast to the end : present at the Cruci-
fixion, and among those daughters of Israel who went to
the Sepulchre at the rising of the Easter sun. True and
kind-hearted, one with her sons in their devotion to the
Master, and comfortably off in this world's goods, yet not
given to false pride in social position, she felt no loss of self-
respect in honouring the Man poverty-stricken and home-
less, and she held to Him, even when others who knew Him
as well as she did shunned Him and spoke slightingly of
Him. She is one of the noble women of history a woman
who becomes the mother of noble sons ; and in the Gospel
an incident is recorded of her from which we may conjee-

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 45

ture a phase of her character and that of her sons not to be
overlooked, and which led to the enunciation of a principle
of first importance.

St. Matthew tells the story of ' the mother of Ze})edee's
sons ' coming to Jesus, and desiring of Him that her
two sons should sit, one on His right hand, and the
other on His left, in His kingdom. St. Mark, in his
account, speaks of James and John themselves as making
this request. We may reasonably infer, that, if their
mother did not speak for them, she agreed with them and
urged them on ; not so much for her own advantage as for
their prosperity. Fault has been freely found with both
the mother and the sons. Through the ages expositors
and preachers have held them up to reprobation. It was
the never-to-be-forgotten sin of James the Great. As the
elder son and brother, and a man of wisdom and sincerity,
he should have known better. When the other disciples
heard of this attempt to gain predominance, especially to
their own disappointment, they were ' much displeased/
and 'moved with indignation': not so much it would
seem at the mother, but ' against the two brethren,' ' with
James and John.' Under like circumstances, others have
felt the same anger, and have called it ' righteous ' as un-
doubtedly it is. Curiously enough, because so unlocked
for, no class of leaders among men have been more prone to
jealousy and ambition than the princes of the Church. In
answer to the questionings of these very disciples, Jesus set
a little child in their midst, and declared such to be the
type that should become great in the kingdom. Not they
who seek ; only they who are sought ! But the strife has
never ceased. The crown or the mitre, the sceptre or the
crosier ; and prelates have armed themselves and have
struggled quite as fiercely as commonplace warriors. So the
other Apostles condemned the sons of Zebedee : ' by that
sin fell the angels ! '

And yet, Christ Himself, to whom were known the heights
and depths, the dead and living level, of human nature, in
truth the very secrets of the heart, did not so readily censure
either a mother whose love had befriended Him or men
who had given Him their service and devotion. Motives
are not always bad, even though the thing desired may be
doubtful. There were influences, not necessarily evil in
themselves; which led Salome and her sons to seek for social
distinction. The princes or great men of the Gentiles had

46 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

them under their dominion and authority. Business con-
nections, friendly intercourse, the exchange of civilities,
had modified their ideas and manners, more than in people
of less financial importance. Nature itself seems to abhor
uniformity ; and there is nothing in the teaching of Jesus
to support the contention that there should be no differences
of rank or position among men. But such differences
cannot be rightly founded on qualities or characteristics
external to the individual himself, such as force, birth,
wealth ; even though society for its own convenience may
accommodate itself to such conditions. In the kingdom
of God such exceptions cannot be allowed. Position or rank
there must necessarily depend upon personal qualities. In
that regime office is given to those for whom it is prepared,
and for which the recipient is fitted. Christ lays idown the
principle clearly and conclusively. The talents which
make one man greater or more efficient than another are his,
not by nature or of his own creation, but by the gift and
at the will of spiritual powers beyond his control. Zebedee's
sons and their mother, by their intercourse with strangers
and the adoption of strange ideas, had been led to suppose
that the kingdom of heaven was to be ruled by favour rather
than by fitness. In the world, as could be seen in the
secular sphere every day, favouritism went a long way. It
helped proconsuls and procurators. But in God's kingdom
such qualities went for naught. There the King calls :
not because the man wishes to be called, but because the
man is prepared and qualified for the call.

Stress should be laid on this principle, not only because it
is one of those crucial and fundamental principles on which
Christ would build His Church, but also because He im-
pressed it so earnestly, perhaps I may say so frequently,
on His disciples. The sons of Zebedee had to learn and
practise it. ' All ye are brethren ' ; not equals, perhaps,
or of the same rank or order. Should some be bishops and
others deacons, yet they could never be other than brethren.
Each one of them was the workmanship of God ; one no
more than another. In the Middle Ages, with which we
shall have to do, the principle was constantly in men's
minds, though it may not have been carried out as clearly
in their lives. I do not know. Christian people were quite
as anxious to do God's will then as they are now. Perhaps
they did not always discern that will ; but when they saw,
and they did see, time and time again, men mighty in spirit

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 47

and splendid in achievement ruling in the Church, swaying
multitudes by their eloquence, leading salutary and impel-
ling movements out of small beginnings into magnificent,
widespread, world-capturing triumphs, I am satisfied that
they believed the men had been given grace for the work
that the position had been allotted by God to the one
for whom it was prepared !

It should be observed, that in dealing with this petition
of James and John his brother, though our Lord endea-
voured to soften the ill feelings of the other disciples by
explaining to them the causes which brought, forth such a
display of desire for distinction, yet He did not condemn the
two brothers. The declaration, ' Ye know not what ye
ask,' indicates both surprise and consideration. It was so
strange and unexpected a request : and had they under-
stood its nature and its consequences, it would not have
been made.

But they who made it were moved, we may well believe,
by a superb and wonderful faith. The woman and her
sons not only accepted Christ as King, but they were also
assured of His winning the Kingdom. There was not as
yet much to encourage them, but they had no doubt that
some day this beloved and worshipped Teacher would sit
upon the throne of His glory. They could stand out against
the flood of opposite opinion ; and at times that flood came
as a rushing tide threatening to overwhelm and destroy
even the very elect. This woman and these her sons
gave way not for a moment : they clung livingly to the
Christ.

True, they would share His glory ; but they believed
He had a glory for them to share. They would, do more
than that ! ' Are ye able,' said He, 'to drink of the cup
that I shall drink of, and to be baptized with the baptism
that I am baptized with ? ' In their reply, I do not hear
daring or recklessness or ignorance, but rather exultant
and eager faith. ' We are able ! ' No more glorious and
unselfish expression of devotion was ever made : not even
St.^ Peter's declaration by which he proved himself to be
Prince of Apostles. The two men would go through any
trial or privation for Him. They loved Him ; indeed, one
of them, John, is expressly said to be the disciple whom
Jesus loved ' which also leaned on his breast at supper,
and said, Lord, which is he that betrayeth thee ? ' Christ
accepted their word. They should indeed suffer.

48 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

They were forceful, brave, impetuous men. The thought
of St. John as above all' others the Apostle of Love has
tended to make us overlook his severe and impressive char-
acteristics. But he had such, as really as St. James. Jesus
knew them well. They were not men who found it hard
to make up their minds. When He called them, ' immedi-
ately,' ' straightway,' they left their father and followed
Him. So did Simon ; and He surnamed him ' Cephas,'
which is by interpretation a stone, that is to say, ' Peter,'
a rock : steadfast, firm, unchangeable even in spite of his
blunderings. He did not change Andrew's name. To the
sons of Zebe dee He gave the name of ' Boanerges,' which
the Evangelist tells us means the ' Sons of Thunder ' ;
perhaps the ' Sons of Anger,' implying their readiness to
break out into passion. In them dwells the spirit of the
storm : fierce, capricious, irresistible, determined. Like
Elijah with the priests of Baal, they would bid fire fall from
heaven upon the villages of the Samaritans who refused to
receive Christ.

These two men and Peter, more than any other of the
Twelve, were taken into the inner life of Jesus. They seem
to have understood Him better, to have been more trusted
by Him, and to have had a devotion and confidence beyond
that of other men. They went with Him to the raising of
Jairus's daughter, and were also spectators of the Trans-
figuration. Thus they knew Him as the Master of death
and as the King of glory. To them also He gave His apoca-
lyptic prophecy in which He foretold the destruction of
Jerusalem, the coming of wars and rumours of wars, the
great tribulation, and the end of the age. Andrew also
may have been present at the time, possibly other dis-
ciples : but certainly Peter and James and John. The
three were taken by Him into the shadows of Gethsemane,
witnesses of His surpassing agony ; ' Tarry ye here, and
watch with me.' Into the mystery itself they may not
enter : ' their eyes waxed heavy,' ' he found them sleeping
for sorrow.' And after the arrest, ' all the disciples forsook
him and fled.'

I assume the passage to mean that among the disciples
thus leaving Him were Peter and James and John. Perhaps
not for long or for far : but they went. I wish I could
think otherwise ; and I am sure that had the Evangelist
been making up a story, he would have written otherwise.
No one cares to see men trusted and honoured take a despic-

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 49

able part. Simon Peter, however, headstrong and short-
sighted, made an attempt at rescue. He drew his sword
and smote off the ear of a servant of the High Priest. Then
he dropped behind. Christ was bound and led away by
Himself to be tried.

The writer of the fourth Gospel tells us that Simon Peter
followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Clearly they
returned quickly from their flight. The name of this other
disciple is not given, but we are told that he ' was known
unto the high priest, and went in with Jesus into the palace
of the high priest.' Peter remained outside ; ' Then went
out that other disciple, which was known unto the high
priest, and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought
in Peter.' Evidently that ' other disciple ' who knew the
high priest, also knew Peter, and felt friendly enough towards
him to get him in to see the end. What happened to Peter
a little later, need not be told.

The difficulty increases. Who was this other disciple ?
Some have said John, one of the sons of Zebedee ; and this
because in the fourth Gospel the writer, supposed to have
been John himself, avoids the name ' John,' and in place
thereof speaks of the * other disciple,' or of ' the disciple
whom Jesus loved.' It is by no means certain. Nor is it
any more likely that the ' other disciple ' was James the
brother of John. Indeed, that either of the sons of Zebedee
should be known to the high priest, and able to obtain
favours from his servants, seems beyond explanation. If
Peter's speech bewrayed him, why should a son of Zebedee
escape ? All were Galileans ; and the Galilean dialect
was easily recognized. Moreover, this ' other disciple '
seems to have disappeared, or, at all events, to have gone
unnoticed, after the admission of Peter. Nor do I think it
probable that any son of Zebedee was known to the high
priest because he supplied the pontifical household with
fish. I am not sure that the highest dignitary in Israel knew
anything about his commissarial department. The posi-
tion of fishmonger to his court would more likely have fallen
either to a Greek or to a Judean merchant in Jerusalem,
than to a net-caster from Galilee. Perhaps, after all, this
' other disciple ' may have been a Judean who had not as
yet declared himself ; one like unto Nicodemus or Joseph
of Arimathea, learned, or rich, moving in high circles, loyal
to tradition and yet impressed by the teaching of the young
Rabbi from Nazareth. But if so, how could he have known

D

50 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and been interested in Peter ? And how came he that night
in Gethsemane ?

I should be glad could I find some testimony convincing
enough to justify me in thinking this ' other disciple ' to
have been St. James of Compostella. That supposition
lies straight before me ; but the fancy is too vague and
elusive for the venture. We may be sure, however, that
if Salome, the wife of Zebedee, were the sister of Mary, the
Blessed Virgin, so that the sons of Zebedee were cousins of
Jesus, there would have been more than discipleship to keep
them close to the centre of affairs. Indeed, to John, the
dying Christ commended the care of His Mother ; and we
are told that from that hour ' that disciple ' took her into
his own home. This need not be taken to imply that that
home was in Jerusalem.

From that time on, the New Testament has little to say of
James the Great. He is mentioned as lodging or abiding
in an upper room with the other disciples ; and he was with
them on the Day of Pentecost, when the Holy Ghost was
given, and St. Peter preached a sermon which added about
three thousand souls to the Church. Instead of James,
John becomes closely associated with St. Peter. They
awaken the first determined opposition to the new Gospel.
They take the lead : the other members of the Twelve
follow. There is only one more reference to St. James in
the Book of the Acts.

But this does not mean inactivity on the part of James, or
that he weakened in his attachment to the Gospel of Christ ;
or that he found himself more in sympathy with those who
would avoid a break between the old and the new, and
retaining Judaism would accommodate Christianity to it.
The silence is rather due to the failure of the writer of the
Book to make good the claim of his title. Practically he
gives sketches of only two of the Apostles : St. Peter and
St. Paul. Others are brought in incidentally. Of St.'
James he has scarcely anything to say, though the chances
are that St. James was as much to the front and as busy
as any of them.

This conjecture is near a conclusion. We can scarcely
imagine that Herod Agrippa i., in order to please the Jews,
would put to death an obscure, unaggressive, and inoffen-
sive man. Had James the brother of John kept in the
background and not said or done anything to provoke the
Jews, he would have been left alone. As it was, he became

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 51

outstanding enough to attract popular notice. And Herod
had much to gain by putting out of the way one hated and
feared by the Jews. Of the question at issue he probably
cared little, but the policy of his reign was to keep quiet, and
to satisfy the people over whom the Emperor Claudius had
made him king. Josephus and the rabbis testify to his devo-
tion to this principle. No ruler ever held more firmly the
favour he coveted. About A.D. 44, in the third year of his
reign, the opportunity came for him to enhance that popu-
larity. The best support he could give to Judaism was to
intimidate its opponents. So we are told that he ' stretched
forth his hands to vex certain of the Church. And he killed
James the brother of John with the sword. And because
he saw it pleased the Jews, he proceeded further to take
Peter also.'

After this the sacred narrative has no reference to St.
James, the son of Zebedee. He was the first of the Twelve
to suffer martyrdom ; the first to drink the cup and to pass
through the baptism.

Fourteen or fifteen years from the net to the sword : from
the bright spring morning of youth in Galilee sweet as the
sweetest land on earth, when the red flowers cover the plain
of Esdraelon and the turtle-dove's welcome moan responds
to the fisherman's song ; from that golden dawn in which
dreams lightened into life, and life began to unfold itself into
the joy of man ; from the nets which angels shall weave
and disciples shall cast to catch souls for the kingdom of
God down to the dreary, cold, cruel morning in Jerusalem :
the clanging of arms, the gruff cries of soldiers, the hateful
murmurings of foes ! The beauty and strength of youth ;
and a broken, headless body on a stained marble slab !

Only the manner of his death is told : with the sword !
Henceforth the sword is associated with him, as the club
came to be with St. James the Less.

In his Mediaeval Preachers, published in London, 1856,
Dr. John Mason Neale gives the notes of a sermon preached
by St. Anthony of Padua on the three witnesses of our
Lord's Transfiguration. St. Anthony, the most celebrated
of the followers of St. Francis of Assisi, was born at Lisbon
in 1195, and died at Padua in 1231. In his day no preacher
excelled him in popularity. Enormous crowds thronged to
his sermons. In his interpretation of Scripture he went far
beyond even mediaeval usage in ultra-mysticism. No more

52 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

fervent or skilful allegorist ever spoke in pulpit. He dis-
covered meanings in names unthought of by those who
originally used them. He freely added incident and colour
to whatever story or passage he touched. Thus in this
sermon on the Transfiguration, delivered one Lenten Sunday,
we find some particulars concerning St. James, so far as I
know, not mentioned by any other authority. We have also
a fair example of the thirteenth -century style of preaching.
We may be sure that pilgrims to Compostella heard like
sermons at the shrine of the Apostle.

' Jesus took Peter, and James, and John. These three
Apostles and special companions of Jesus Christ, signify the
three powers of our soul, without which no man can ascend
to the mount of light that is, to the excellence of holy
conversation. Peter is by interpretation, He that acknow-
ledges ; James, a supplanter ; John, grace. Jesus taketh
with Him Peter. Do thou, also, who believest, and who
hopest for salvation from Jesus, take with thee Peter that
is, the acknowledgment of thy sin. Which consists princi-
pally in three things : in the pride of the heart, in the lusts
of the flesh, in the avarice of the world.

' Take also James that is, the supplanter of these vices,
that thou mayest tread down under the foot of reason the
wickedness and pride of the spirit, mayest mortify the evil
desires of the flesh, and mayest repress the vanity of the
fallacious world.

* Take also John that is, the grace of God, which stands
at the door and knocks that it may enlighten thee to the
perception of the evils which thou hast done, and may
preserve thee in the good which thou hast taken in hand.

' These are the men of whom Samuel said to Saul, When
thou shall come to the oak of Tabor, there snail meet thee three
men going up to God to Bethel, one carrying three kids, and
another carrying three loaves of bread, and another carrying
a bottle of wine. The oak of Tabor and the hill of
Tabor, signify the excellence of a holy life, which is well
called an oak, a mountain, and Tabor. An oak, because it
stands firm and inflexible to final perseverance. A moun-
tain, because it is lofty and sublime, by the contemplation
of God. Tabor, which is by interpretation "the coming
light," by the illumination of good example.

' In the excellence of a holy life, these three things are
required : that it be constant in itself, that it contemplate
God, that it illuminate its neighbour. When, therefore,

FROM THE NET TO THE SWORD 53

thou comest, that is, when them art resolved to come, or to
ascend to the oak or to the mountain of Tabor there
shall meet thee three men going up to Bethel. These are
Peter that is, he that acknowledges ; James that is, the
supplanter ; John that is, the grace of God.

' Peter, carrying three kids.

' James, three loaves of bread.

' John, a bottle of wine.

'Peter that is, he who acknowledges himself to be a
sinner, carries three kids. By a kid is set forth the ill savour
of sin. In the three kids are expressed the three kinds of
sin by which we principally offend ; that is, the pride of
heart, the petulance of the flesh, the avarice of the world.
He, therefore, that will ascend to the mountain of light must
carry these three kids ; that is, must acknowledge himself
to be a sinner in these three things. He that supplants the
vices of the flesh, and carries three loaves of bread, signifies
sweetness of mind, which consists of humility of heart,
chastity of body, and love of poverty ; which sweetness
none can have, except he shall first have supplanted vices.
He, therefore, carries three loaves of bread that is, a triple
sweetness of mind who represses the pride of the heart,
restrains the petulance of the flesh, casts away the avarice
of the world. John that is, he who, the grace of God
preventing and following him, preserves all these things
faithfully -tnd perseveringly truly carries a bottle of wine.
Jesus, therefore, took Peter, and James, and John. Do thou
also take these three men, and go up to Mount Tabor. But,
believe me, the ascent is difficult, because the mount is lofty.
Dost thou wish to ascend with ease ? Get that ladder, of
which the 28th of Genesis : And Jacob dreamed, and behold
a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven :
and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it.
And, behold, the Lord stood above it. Note each word, and you
will see their concordance with the Gospel.

' He saw. Here is the acknowledgment of sin, of which
Bernard says : "I asked no other vision from God, except
that of my own sins." Jacob is the same name with James ;
and thus Esau, in the 27th of Genesis : He hath supplanted me
these two times.

( In his sleep. Behold the" grace of God, which gives
the sleep of quiet and peace. ... It is well, therefore, said :
Jacob beheld a ladder, by which thou mayest ascend to
Mount Tabor.'

54 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

In a footnote, Dr. Neale reminds us that St. Anthony is
here parallelising the three names, Peter, James, John, with
the three words, Vidit, Jacob, scalam Jacob beheld a ladder.
I do not know how closely the people could follow this exces-
sively mystical interpretation, or understand the learning
of the preacher, but I imagine that they pictured literally
the three disciples carrying their several burdens up the
mountain. They saw Peter with the young goats, James
with the loaves of bread, and John with the wine. Thus
another tradition was added to the story of the sons of
Zebedee.

CHAPTER V
MIRACLES AND LEGENDS

THE silence of history, or the absence of records upon which
dependence can be sure, is no discouragement to tradition.
Indeed even now, though criticism be more eager and exact-
ing than in days of yore, the failure of the one is the oppor-
tunity of the other. So strong is the desire for further
knowledge, especially concerning men whose popularity has
developed into romance and stirred up imagination, that
suggestions and fancies, sometimes scarcely resting on possi-
bility, long entertained, dwelt upon, and frequently told,
slowly exaggerate themselves and pass imperceptibly into
the region of accepted facts. The processes are forgotten ;
the conclusions are so plausible, so gratifying, so inspir-
ing, that in time they obtain common acceptance without
inquiry.

Before taking up the legends and miracles which enlarge,
if they do not always enrich, the story of St. James of Com-
postella, some further consideration of the general subject of
tradition may not be out of place, and may enable us the
easier and more clearly to deal with our study.

Of one thing we may be fairly sure : though apt to
indulge in extravagances and distortions, owing to its in-
genuity, industry, and impetuosity, tradition nearly always
keeps true to life. The most reckless and most incredible of
legends may have in it some modicum of verity. That
modicum may be hard to discover, perhaps irrecoverably
evasive ; but if ascertained, it may turn out to be accurate
and faithful in itself, an honest germ, buried beneath con-
jecture, misinterpretation, and superabundance of dust and
colouring. The story may rest upon a foundation more
substantial than an opinion that such might have been or
should have been the case. Nor may forgetfulness be over-
looked. Origins are easily lost sight of ; and oral trans-
mission is by its very nature uncertain. It is not, therefore,
wise to dismiss a tradition or a legend as untrue simply
because it is a tradition or a legend. It may be, of course,

55

56 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

a pure invention ; on the other hand, it may have some
element of truth worth considering.

When tradition touches upon miracle, it assumes the
possibility of such. By miracle we understand a departure
from the ordinary, common, recognized process or law of
nature : a unique or extraordinary happening which violates
the principle on which nature is generally known to act ;
an event brought about by supernatural agency, a power out-
side of and above and mightier than any power with which
we are ordinarily conversant. In common thought, a
miracle is taken to be an act of God, or by an emissary of
God, whereby He suspends the law though appointed by
Himself. He who made the law can also change the law.
If this principle or possibility be wrong, then miracle is out
of the question.

And yet care should be taken not to bring under this
conclusion discoveries of wonders which may be in accord-
ance with laws heretofore unknown. Science has brought
to light phenomena that are so remarkable, even stupendous,
that at first sight they seem utterly impossible. A genera-
tion since, no one would have believed that vibrations could
be sent thousands of miles through the air conveying human
messages ; or that the voices of singers and orators could be
so preserved as to be reproduced years after the men them-
selves had perished. Yet such things, and others as
wonderful as they, create no surprise whatever. The
ancients would have called them miracles ; we have found
that they are no more than the normal and natural outcome
of laws and causes, once unsuspected, but now clearly
ascertained.

Possibly events which we still speak of as miracles, and
which tradition has handed down as such, are not departures
or violations, but the normal and natural effects of laws,
which, though to us unknown, may yet be real and active.
The time may come when we shall discover and understand
such laws. The laws are not new because unsuspected.
We have found out fresh uses of electricity, but electricity
was operating before light began.

It is also well that we should refuse a ready acquiescence
to the reason commonly given for the operation of miracles.
There may be good reasons, but the one I would now speak
of is open to suspicion. Some theologians hold that miracles
were wrought in New Testament times to substantiate the
claims and authority of Christ. They were intended to

MIRACLES AND LEGENDS 57

prove the truth of His utterances. Without miracles His
mission would have been a failure. The mission, however,
proved, miracles ceased for all time. In other words,
miracles were necessary to faith. Christ must create faith
by working wonders. An ancient idea, from before the days
when the rods of magicians were turned into serpents.

Such an idea does not seem to rest on a very secure foun-
dation. St. John expressly says of the people at Jerusalem :
' Though he had done so many miracles before them, yet
they believed not on him ' ; and the Evangelist goes on to
point out that Isaiah had foretold such should be the case.
Others, indeed, especially after the raising of Lazarus, when
they 'had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on
him ' ; but it should be kept in mind that before Jesus did
anything, He demanded of Martha a declaration of faith :
' Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou
shouldest see the glory of God ? ' The same truth appears
in the prayer : ' Jesus lifted up His eyes and said, Father, I
thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou
hearest me always : but because of the people which stand
by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me '
not because of the miracle which had not yet been accom-
plished, but because of the claim which He made. So when
the messenger came, announcing that the daughter of the
ruler of the synagogue was dead, He answered : ' Fear not :
believe only, and she shall be made whole.' Again and again,
after the healing of the sick, He ignores the miracle and
declares, ' Thy faith hath made thee whole ! ' A centurion's
servant was healed, because in the centurion the Saviour
found a faith greater than any He had discovered even in
Israel. To the father of the child with the deaf and dumb
spirit He said, ' If thou canst believe, all things are possible
to him that belie veth.' Of the blind men who pleaded that
He would give them their sight, He asked, ' Believe ye that
I am able to do this ? ' They told their confidence. ' Then
touched he their eyes, saying, According to your faith be it
unto you.' We are told that in His own country He could
do no mighty work : ' and he marvelled because of their
unbelief.' When the disciples inquired the reason for their
failure in working a certain miracle, He said : ' Because
of your unbelief.'

The deduction which follows these illustrations is generally
allowed : faith is a necessary preliminary to all human
enterprise and action. Without faith man would neither

68 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

sow seed nor look for harvest. No business would be under-
taken, if the merchant had no faith in it ; no ship sent across
the sea, no railway laid over the mountains, no agent en-
trusted with commission. The traveller would not put foot
on bridge if he did not believe the bridge was safe. We send
the boy to school because we have faith in the boy and in
the masters by whom he shall be taught. In sickness, the
physician is sent for in whom we have faith. It is faith that
encourages us to put our- money in the bank or in an invest-
ment. We retire to rest and close our eyes in sleep because
we have faith in those around us. In short, faith must
operate to some extent or nothing whatever would be done
not so much as eating or drinking. No man would touch
food unless he believed it free from the power to hurt or
harm. And if faith be thus necessary in the common life,
it is no less so in the religious. No man can worship or
serve a God whom he does not believe to exist. So Holy
Writ says : * He that cometh to God must believe that he
is ' ; and the same authority declares that ' without faith it
is impossible to please him.' I am not now interested in
the cause or production of this quality. I only submit that
life, that is to say, conscious life, in any of its depart-
ments, common or religious, will not put itself into action
without faith.

And further, from the foregoing summary of the sayings
of Christ, we gather that it is not the miracle which produces
the faith, but the faith which gives the miracle likelihood.
We do not believe in St. James the Great because of the
miracles which he is said to have done ; but because we
believe in him, we consider indulgently the wonders told
about him. Christ did not save the world by His miracles,
but by His faith in God, in Himself, in man. He may have
healed without faith on the part of the person healed, as in
baptism the Holy Ghost may impart grace without the child
being conscious of the act, much less having faith or know-
ledge ; but even then He took the faith of the people bringing
to Him 'the person for whom they would obtain His favour :
' And when he saw their faith.' And yet even then, had He
discerned no such faith, His own faith would have sufficed.
God saves man because God believes in man. So one might
reasonably be led to hold, for instance, that the partheno-
genesis of Christ does not beget faith in Christ, but, if that
stupendous hypothesis be necessary to the being of Christ,
as the Church undoubtedly holds it to be, faith in Christ

MIRACLES AND LEGENDS 59

would lead to its acceptance. We do not believe in Christ
because He healed the sick, gave Bight to the blind, cleansed
the'leper, and raised the dead. Not to miracles, but to His
labours for the moral and spiritual benefit of others, does
He refer when He says, ' Believe me for the very works'
sake.' The world has come to believe in Him, not for the
miracles, but for the purity of His life, His gracious words,
His beauty and loveliness of vision, the boundlessness of
His love, His unfailing justice, and His power of sacrifice
for the Man Himself !

Were miracles necessary, as some advocates of religion
hold, it is strange that miracles have done so little to further
the cause for which we are told they were performed. Take
Christ Himself. In spite of the miracles He wrought and
I do not question the reality of any one of them the people
put Him to death, and did their utmost to destroy both the
teaching He inculcated, and also the men who endeavoured
to carry out His purpose. He may raise Lazarus from the
dead, or cause the soldiers in the garden to fall back, or heal
and restore the servant's ear, but He will be crucified just
the same. Indeed, the wonder of His own resurrection,
actual and physical, according to the evidence, did not affect
favourably either the priests at Jerusalem who sent Him to
the Cross, or the philosophers at Athens who heard of Him
from St. Paul. Of course, miracles had in them a purpose
and produced an effect, or no one would so much as allege
them to have happened ; but I do not find that they built
up Christianity.

Many a true and beautiful application, for instance, may
be made of the turning of the water into wine, symbol of
changes which happen in life ; but the miracle itself would
not bring a soul to Christ. It could be explained away.
Except in the particular of time, nature is constantly work-
ing the same transformation ; and through the grape, water
of the spring may become exhilarating wine that shall make
glad the heart of man.

Again, I do not say that Christ did not work the miracle
at Cana of Galilee, or suggest that He could not, for, if we
will, we may see changes as sudden and more wonderful
wrought in human life : the passing from ignorance into
knowledge, from anger and wrath into gentleness, from sin
into holiness, from spiritual death into spiritual life. These
transmutations, strictly speaking, are not miracles, but they
are as wonderful as any miracle ever performed. He who

60 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

can lift a man out of the mire and' clay, and set him on the
Rock of Ages, can, of His own might and will, strike disease
from the unclean, and break asunder the bars of death.

I am not, therefore, inclined to think that miracles prove
much, if anything, for oftentimes they arouse questions
difficult to answer and suspicions impossible to allay ;
though, possibly, they may tend to confirm a faith previously
existing. I can imagine that many of the miracles told of
St. James the Great were recorded to create a stronger faith
in him ; but St. James is not St. James because of them.
I do not contend for belief in any miracle I shall repeat :
St. James stands apart from every one of them. Some of
them may be true ; few of them are impossible at least,
you do not know them to be such ; and all .of them are
curious. Nor does it follow because you cannot believe or
accept a miracle or legend, that everybody else is in the same
condition. To some other person, of equal intelligence,
experience, and education, that which you reject as absurd,
is welcomed with eagerness and adopted as reasonable. There
are people who cannot believe in God ; and there are people
who cannot rid themselves of direct, intense, controlling faith
in God, even though they may try with all their might.

And yet, notwithstanding all that I have said, and perhaps
in greater measure suggested, miracles will never lose their
fascination. Joshua may have quoted an old song ; and
reflection may induce one to think that the song must be
interpreted poetically rather than physically ; but there is
something that quiets every doubt and forces adoration in
the sublime and astonishing spectacle of the sun standing
still in the midst of the heavens, and hasting not to go down
about a whole day. ' And there was no day like that before
it or after it, that the Lord hearkened unto the voice of a
man : for the Lord fought for Israel.' It may be true, or
it may not be true, that the sun stayed over Gibeon and the
moon in the valley of Ajalon ; but the more you contem-
plate that wondrous scene, and think of the circumstances
associated with it, the more entranced you become, and the
more you are convinced that he who would ask the question
at all is bereft either of intellect or of poetic instinct. What
does it matter ? Why should a question which cannot be
answered absolutely keep one from passing under the spell,
or from enjoying the fascination of a unique and magnificent
miracle ? Must imagination always be bound by physical
conditions ?

CHAPTER VI
MORE ABOUT LEGENDS

THE Legend contains the record of the Miracle, and some-
times other remarkable and unexpected particulars which
can scarcely be called miraculous. It is the name given
to a story connected with a saint ; and a story so called is
commonly and at once taken to be more than doubtful.
Few words have dropped so decidedly from respectability
into disrepute. Etymologically it means nothing more
than a thing read : Ugere, to read, without suggesting
the nature of the thing read. It might have been called
a ' Reading.'

In the course of time the word came to be applied to the
narrative read in church at the commemoration of a saint :
the story of his life, sayings, and deeds ; a short biography,
as it were. Archbishop Trench, more than three-quarters
of a century since, touched on the subject. ' By this name
of " legends," ' he said, ' the annual commemorations of
the faith and patience of God's saints in persecution and
death were originally called; these legends in this title
which they bore proclaiming that they were worthy to be
read, and from this worthiness deriving their name.' And
he adds, just what happened to give the word ' legend ' its
bad character : ' At a later day, as corruptions spread
through the Church, these " legends " grew, in Hooker's
words, " to be nothing else but heaps of frivolous and scandal-
ous vanities," having been " even with disdain thrown out,
the very nests which bred them abhorring them." ' Thus
the word came to be a synonym, not merely for a marvellous
story, but for a 'lie,' or, to say the best of it, a statement
which may be dismissed without a second thought.

' How steeped in falsehood, and to what an extent,' the
archbishop says, ' the " legends " must have become
" lyings," we can best guess, when we measure the moral
forces which must have been at work, before that which
was accepted at the first as " worthy to be read," should
have been felt by this very name to announce itself as most

61

62 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

unworthy, as belonging at best to the region of fable, if not
to that of actual untruth.'

In the Reformation short work was done with the
' Legends.' An Act of the English Parliament, 1549, decreed
that all such books should be ' clearly and utterly abolished,
extinguished, and forbidden for ever to be used or kept in
this realm or elsewhere within any the King's dominions.'
The same Act commanded that any such books should be
delivered up to the authorities, who should ' cause them
immediately either to be openly burnt or otherwise defaced
and destroyed.' The violation of this law involved severe
penalties, even imprisonment at the king's will.

Such laws were sufficient to brand ' Books of Legends '
for all time as ' Wicked Books ' books that no Christian
should harbour or shelter in his house, much less read. Far
safer was it that his children should hear of Robin Hood and
his Merry Men than of Thomas of Canterbury or Richard of
Chichester ; and in a few years every boy in the land knew
that Tom Hickathrift had done mightier deeds than either
St. Nicholas or St. Anthony. And the dictionaries of the
English language, even to the present day, have perpetuated
the stigma and the anathema : ' myths ; idle tales in the
form of history, but without its truth ; inventions flimsy as
spiders' webs ; fancies without foundation ; things existent
only in a story.'

When, then, I undertake to deal with the legends of
Santiago de Compostella, I am not a little handicapped by
the word itself. In some minds, by using it, as slang would
express it, I give myself away. My case is lost the moment
I mention 'legend.' It is not a respectable word, and there
is sound authority for holding that evil communications
corrupt good manners.

But ragged, stained, disreputable as the word undoubtedly
is, even an outcast may be entitled to some consideration.
After all it may not be bad through and through. It may
have some truth. Indeed, it may be misunderstood. Being
in the form of history and having the appearance of truth,
it may yet be found without either quality, but, on the other
hand, the clearest sky is not without the possibility of cloud,
and your conclusion is rarely free from doubt. You may
reject the legend, perhaps, because it seems absurd or ludi-
crous ; but does that prove it to be untrue ? You may
condemn it because it is used, perhaps designed, to further
some project you do not approve of ; but again I ask, does

MORE ABOUT LEGENDS 63

that prove it to be untrue ? Or you may suspect it because
the same thing is told of some one else ; but does it follow
that a thing can never happen more than once ? Christopher
Columbus may have shown the Spanish grandee how to
stand an egg on end, but children the world over again and
again have done the same thing. Because Nicodemus is
said to have gone to the Great Teacher by night is no argu-
ment that other men have not tried to obtain information
in similar manner. In other words, I am not obliged to
set aside the Saint in whom I am interested because stories
abound about him which I do not always know to be true,
and because they chance to be called by a suspicious and
disagreeable name.

On the contrary, I have used the word ' legend ' invariably
in a good sense. To me it is a pleasant word, suggesting
romance, the charm of far-away days, the ballads of minstrels
and the songs of pilgrims, Canterbury roads and Florentine
gardens. Nor shall I allow it to be aught to me but a sunny,
merry mediaeval word, just the word I want : the fault
charged to it being rather in those who use it, than in itself.

But though we take the word in this kindly sense, it is
not clear that we always understand aright either miracle
or legend. Thus, for instance, objection is made to the
legend of Elisha's causing an axe-head to float, for the reason
that iron cannot swim : an allowed fact, and yet thousands
of tons of iron float across the sea every day. There is a
difference between an axe and a steamboat, and the differ-
ence is not altogether in the material. Possibly the stick
the prophet cast into the water had some quality, magnetic
let us say, which brought the iron to the surface. Have we
got the full story ? Or take the journey of the Israelites
through the Red Sea. Moses lifted up his rod, but does not
the narrative ascribe the division of the water to the effect
of the ' strong east wind all that night ' ? Or do the words
describing the rising of the waters in Noah's flood necessarily
imply a deluge the whole world round of upwards of twenty -
seven thousand feet ? May not the narrative mean, that
as far as the eye could see, up to the tops of the hills that
edged that valley of the Euphrates, the waters spread, deep
enough to float the Ark, to cover every point of land, and to
sweep life from off the earth ? ' Every living substance was
destroyed which was upon the face of the ground ' ! Besides
the rain, the flood had come up the river from the sea : ' the
fountains of the great deep were broken up, and the windows

64 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

of heaven were opened.' Have we interpreted the story
fairly and reasonably, or have we read into it a meaning as
extravagant as it is strange ?

I do not claim that miracles or legends can thus he ex-
plained away. I only suggest that in many instances we
have exaggerated or distorted or misread traditions till they
have become next to impossible, or at all events so difficult
to accept as to demand a faith which finds no justification
in reason. The most that I contend for is an assurance that
the miracle is really a miracle, in the sense commonly given
to the term, and that the legend has been fairly dealt
with. I do not think that either should be dismissed as
fiction, unless it is certain that neither has been founded
on fact.

But, on the other hand, there is no question whatever
that in some instances tradition has preserved the memory
of miracles which were intended to be taken as such, and
which have no discoverable evidence of their reality. The
difficulty of accepting miracles is their departure from known
law. There may be occasions in which reason can justify
such departure ; but reason must be satisfied, or the faith
alleged is not worth having. If there be no possible justi-
fication of such violation of law, the violation may be doubted
and even denied. The objection to all miracles is the un-
certainty they beget in the processes of providence or nature.
If a man may cast himself from a great height and escape
the consequences which ordinarily ensue, we can have no
dependence in the law which ordains the effect. If Christ
may cause the stones in the wilderness to be made bread,
He destroys our faith in the operations by which food is to
be obtained. In this case it is not a question, Can He do
it ? Rather, Will He do it ? Undoubtedly God can do
many things which He certainly will not do.

What then shall be my attitude towards the miracles and
legends which so frequently are alleged by hagiologists ?
Must I accept as true, or must I reject as false, the wonders
they present and the stories they tell ? Is there a hard and
fast rule for me to apply either way ? There is only one
answer to the question. To be fair, and to avail myself of
the truth which possibly lies within the tradition, I must
use my common sense that practical quality which comes
out of reason, experience, and conviction. I am not obliged
to believe things that are in themselves stupid, useless,
frivolous, absurd, contradictory, or without sense or pur-

MORE ABOUT LEGENDS 65

pose. I cannot give credence to the ridiculous, not even
when it may happen to be true. I may respect the spirit
which led to the invention, but I cannot give faith to an
invention which in itself has nothing to commend it.

So I find myself in various moods not always corresponding
to the moods of tradition itself. Tradition is always serious.
So am I at times ; but at other times I find myself provoked
at the stupidity of the miracle or legend, or I have to laugh
at its ludicrous assumptions, or I have to put it from me
till patience revives and interest returns. In this I am not
altogether short-sighted.

In the end, however, though I may chance to throw aside
the story, or at least the version I have of it, I come round to
think more of the motive and purpose of the men with whom
it originated. Sometimes I am woefully disappointed.
Unscrupulous and conscienceless men have been always alert
to further their purposes by any means within their reach.
They are not reluctant to fabricate deceits and to foster
misleading suggestions. For truth they have little regard ;
and if a lie can be made useful it arouses no hesitation.
Thus, to further their own interests, they measure discern-
ingly the gullibility of the people round them, excite their
avidity, trick them out of their ordinary sense, play with
their emotions, and by irrepressible reiteration and well-
disguised confusion of thought make them acknowledge as
true that for which no unimpeachable evidence can be pro-
duced. This process goes on in every country and in every
age ; and religion is no more free from its subtleties and
corrosions, its attacks and ravages, than any other depart-
ment of human life. Nor is it other than common know-
ledge that the process is as vigorous to-day as it ever was :
even in what we style our new thought, or our new methods,
or our new religion. In this particular, the new is as vul-
nerable as the old. In the time of Saul, king of Israel, and
ages earlier, one could go to a village such as Endor, and get
a shrewd, crafty old woman to pretend to bring back the
dead. In the Middle Ages one could do the same thing in a
like neighbourhood. To-day, one can have a ghost conjured
up in some dark room in a dingy tenement. No one ever
sees the spirit, any more than Saul saw Samuel, but the
witch or the medium performs the same trick, and, beyond
all cavil, according to her expertness, brings about pretty
much the same result as mongers in miracles and legends
have always been able to effect. I have no doubt that some

E

66 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

of the miracles and legends told about St. James the Great,
or any other of the saints, are of this quality.

But, in no age and in no country, is every man who tells
or repeats a strange story either unscrupulous or conscience-
less : any more than because there have been dishonest
bankers or merchants is every banker or merchant dis-
honest. There have always been upright, straightforward,
pure-minded, and truth-loving men, in every proper or
legitimate walk of life no less so than among those who
have to do with shrines and relics. We need not condemn
Compostella because, possibly, it had among its builders
some rogues, and, again possibly, a few who sought the end
without much respect for the means. There were others
besides such as these concerned in that enterprise, to whom
deceit was as poison, and swindling or fraud impossible.
They had some evidence, which they were satisfied was
sound, on which to rest their assertions ; and when I think
of them, and of the multitude of annalists, chroniclers, and
historians who have no purpose other than that of discover-
ing and perpetuating truth, even if I am sometimes brought
to a standstill, charity and judgment intermingle and suggest
that the tradition is probably right, though possibly it may
be wrong.

CHAPTER VII
THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME

IN considering the subject before us, we should not forget some
of the conditions which separate from us the people of the Dark
and Middle Ages. That mankind is in grand essentials the
same through all the generations, markedly so in what is
commonly designated ' human nature,' goes without saying ;
but in surroundings, conceptions, knowledge, and the like
there is occasion for much differentiation. Therefore, to
understand a remote age rightly, we need not only to take for
granted general and time-lasting characteristics and traits,
essential, as one may say, to the species, but also to picture to
ourselves the accidents or circumstances which shaped and
coloured its development, and indeed gave it individuality.

Thus, apparently for no reason whatever, but because of
an instinct more powerful and more tenacious than reason
can ever be, man believes in life after death. He may differ
much from his fellows as to the nature and qualities of that
life ; but, even from the times before civilization was more
than in its dawn, he has clung to some kind of immortality.
I do not suppose that the individual to whom once belonged
the oldest skull that anthropologists have as yet discovered
would have understood the metaphors of Damiani's Glory of
Paradise, or Bernard of Morlaix's Contempt of the World.
But I am satisfied that he would have agreed, with those
poets that after death came something better than aught
that man has known in this world. Man has always looked
for that ' something better,' but his conceptions of it have
varied with the stages in his development.

In the ages with which I am dealing, it seems to me that
the people maintained and cultivated a more intimate
relationship to the dead than in these later days we indulge
in, or think possible. Our consciousness of immortality is
probably no less keen than theirs was ; but we are more apt to
regard death as involving complete separation, at least for
the present. The ancients rarely thought of the dead as
being far away, or as having no continued interest in a

67

68 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

world they loved so well and had left so reluctantly. The
living prayed for the dead, and the dead prayed for the living.
Not only had the living kindly remembrance of the dead and
a desire to further their happiness and enlightenment in the
other world ; but they believed that the dead still had
power to help and comfort those who had been to them dear
as life itself. The body slept in its winding-sheet. In
hallowed ground near by a mound marked its resting-place,
or in the church itself an effigy retained its well-distinguished
figure and outline of face and hand. But the soul itself still
hovered near : in the shadow of the yews, or the moonlit
hall, or the silent aisle, or the recesses of the garden, or
wherever it had lingered in the old days. No one ever went
far from the place where one was born or far from the place
where one died. Heaven itself lay across the blue sky,
and hell was near enough for its fires to burst from mountain-
top and its shrieks to be heard in storm and tempest. Even
purgatory lapped over into the present, and began its cleans-
ing processes before death closed in.

Thus the ancients had a familiarity with the dead, or at
least thought they had, that we are not ready to encourage,
even if we allow it to be within reach. We love our dead as
much as they did ; but our dead are distant, remote, beyond
intercourse ' in a land that is very far off.' The great gulf
fixed between paradise and gehenna, or the conditions
represented by those terms, is indeed impassable ; but the gulf,
if there be a gulf, between the living and the dead need not be
so considered. Nor did the people of bygone ages so think it.

For one thing, of the vast spaces and enormous distances,
the myriads of millions of miles, told over and over again,
which lie between the worlds of the universes and between
the universes themselves, and of which we have tried to
make ourselves conscious, they knew nothing. They did
not dream of them. No attempt was then made to define
the universe. The earth itself, so small to us in comparison
to other worlds, that we liken it to the point of a needle in an
ocean's borderless breadth, was indeed stupendous to them.
It was the centre of all things ; and even that centre, though
they imagined it not, was but a small part of a diminutive
cosmos, hemmed in by the horizons of the Atlantic waters
and the African deserts, the fires of the east whence the sun
drew in his heat, and the hills of the north where death
brooded in the ice and destruction gathered its terror in the
storm. A little world to us !

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 69

But all there was, to them !

Doubtless they wondered what mysteries lay in the wilds
beyond the rising and the setting sun, the regions they sup-
posed impenetrable and for ever closed to mortal man.
Perhaps, as some of the ancients thought, the dead who had
lost their last tie with the present went thither; and
monsters that imagination itself could scarcely picture dwelt
there monsters more hideous than reptiles, huge, repulsive,
and hungry, that haunted jungles and marshes. Legends
there were indeed of men who had tried to force their way
through those depths, forests and deserts that had no end,
and seas that had no farther shore ; and such adventurers, if
they came back, brought gruesome stories and spread fear-
some warnings. So that, after all, man's world was small ;
and to say nothing of the dead, few were the living who went
out of the neighbourhood to which they belonged, or over
the bounds where their speech could be understood.

In this life, then, as we consider them, distance and size
were narrowly limited. Even the empires, Egypt, Assyria,
Babylonia, were small. Athens ruled the thought and art
of the world, and Rome its wealth and power, but neither
Athens nor Rome in population or extent would approach
a suburb of some of earth's cities. On the other hand, in
the schools of London and New York and Paris the lan-
guages, literatures, laws, and philosophies of Italy and
Greece are taught as of first importance in some respects,
more important than anything intellectual or thought-
creating that has been evolved since.

We are in danger of generalizing too much. I do not
forget that in all ages and in all countries life was complex
and varied : in many phases contradictory. That which
is true of one class may not be true of another class ; and
classes have always existed, and always will exist. It is
impossible to avoid distinctions between people who live in
large cities and people who live in small towns ; and the
differences are wide and permanent which characterize the
merchant, the shopman, the artisan, the farmer and the
ploughman, or the learned and the ignorant, the rich and
the poor, the prince and the pauper, the priest and the lay-
man. Even the forester and the hayward diverge, though
both have to do with woods and hedges. And men are not
equal in the powers of mind or of body. We must not,
therefore, suppose that the people of past ages were of one
dead level, or that what we say of some of them is true of all.

70 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Let us recall the old-time village life not because there
was no town life, or that village life was typical of all life
but for the reason that here we may find our best illustration
of the little world, and perhaps the most fruitful field for
miracle and legend. It does not matter for our purpose
whether we picture to ourselves a village in Spain, say
in the neighbourhood of Compostella, or in France or in
England. All the world over the village was a little world
to itself, self-contained, with customs of its own : a mill,
a church, perhaps a castle, a dungeon, stocks and gallows,
a whippingrpost, a beer-house, a bowling-green, and a grave-
yard. No one lived at any distance from his fellows. He
knew them, and they knew him, perhaps better than he
knew himself. The cottages were small, badly built,
crowded, earth-floored, and dark ; of sanitation there was
none, of cleanliness and neatness very little, and of house-
hold comforts, as we understand them, scarcely any. Flies
swarmed on the dunghills in the lane, and the crannies
abounded with rats and mice. As ever, the owls and
hawks pursued the brown sparrow ; and the thrush and the
blackbird sang merrily among the hawthorn bushes. Life
was dull, but the people were not necessarily unhappy or
miserable. They had their pastimes, drinking-bouts, fights,
and other hilarities. Some would throw quoits and play
barley-break. They trained magpies and jackdaws to talk,
and pigs to dance. Once in a lifetime, perhaps, some of
them saw a performing monkey or a bear cutting capers.
They had neither tea nor coffee, but their ale lacked not
plenty or potency. Tobacco was unknown, but in the cold,
weird winter nights they told tales and sang songs, as jovially
and merry-heartedly as in the long summer evenings they
sought for fairies in the grassland, or hunted witches in the
huts beside the brook. They were superstitious, grossly
and normally so would be the people of to-day had they to
live in such a little, cramped world !

If the village grew in size or in importance, it enclosed
itself within walls for defence. Its dogs were fierce ; its
young men expert with bow and fist and bludgeon. For
centuries the community remained intact and complete in
itself. It was jealous of its own traditions, privileges,
manners, and conquests. It had its own leaders. The food
and clothing necessary for its inhabitants came largely from
within its own fields, and was of its own handmake. Expan-
sion not infrequently happened. It advanced in friendship

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 71

with other towns within reach. Lordships and kingdoms
became more firmly established. Probably from the begin-
ning it had its overlord, to whom it paid tribute, and from
whom it secured protection.

The lord may have lived miles away, in a stronghold
where he could command approaches to the towns, villages,
and farms which he held, exact toll of itinerant pedlars and
jugglers, administer such laws as he favoured or found
necessary, and shelter armed men either for the king's
services or his own purposes. He was likely to be arbitrary
and self-willed. But it is doubtful if he was always the
tyrant romance has represented him to be. Apart from
his stewards and bailiffs, he probably knew his tenants and
serfs personally, and could tell the worth of an able and
trusty man when he saw him. One can imagine him passing
the time of day or a merry jest with his farrier as he shod
his horse, or his fletcher as he trimmed his arrows. He
talked of bullocks as well as branding culprits. A man
according to his individuality ; perhaps with a passion that
made stout hearts tremble ; perhaps with a prudence that
sought for peace and loyalty. His world was a few miles
wider than the world of the villager, and he met more people,
heard more news, decided more questions, but rarely could
he read, or do more than make a mark for his name. He
believed most things that were told him, especially if they
were outside his experience and he could not refute them.
The more surprising the demand on his credulity, the readier
his acceptance. Probably he settled disputes more by the
strength of his arm than by the skill of his brain. Most
likely he was steeped in traditions, and the women of his
house could interpret dreams as happily as weave and spin.

But in many ways more important than he, at least to the
community itself, was the Church : a parish priest, from the
world outside, better taught than his people, guide and
adviser to every one, possibly less and possibly more super-
stitious than they, trusted and honoured by them, and in
due time one of them in a very real and intimate sense. In
the village life he was practically the social centre. Even
the bailiff recognized his superiority. The constable walked
humbly before him. His parishioners might steal his tithe
pig, and even burn him in effigy, but they listened to him
on Sunday, and sent for him to visit their sick or bury their
dead. Sometimes they ran down his reputation, but they
believed what he said, even though they hesitated to do all

72 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

that he advised. A little rougher, but much the same life
through the ages. Perhaps he loved his people : Chaucer's
poor town parson did. No more beautiful picture of the
devout, diligent, and patient parish priest of the Middle
Ages has been depicted. But there were probably few such.
Had there been many, the poet had not made so much of
him. I imagine that in the usual run of country parishes
there was no overflowing consideration on the side of either
priest or people. He thought never was parson afflicted with
such a flock ; they wondered if ever cassock was more rusty
than his, or ever priest more careful of his fees. Poverty is
apt to beget clergy who are not loth to curse for their tithes.

Human nature being what it is, I have no doubt that the
clergy of those days could have fairly stood the test. Few
may have attained to Chaucer's ideal, but, on the other
hand, few may have fallen to Trulliber's level. I am satis-
fied that as a rule they were true and faithful to their vocation
and helpful to their people. In their little world, their lives
were open to every eye, and their opinions were of some worth
to every mind. Neither they nor their people had means
of acquiring knowledge or of scattering knowledge except
by word of mouth. Newspapers were unknown, books
scarce ; probably the priest the only person within miles
who could read, and even he may have been able to write
but an indifferent hand. Here and there were schools for
childre'n, more surely so if an abbey were not far away.
But reading, writing, and arithmetic were not the only things
a child need learn, nor by any means the most important.

And yet I am sure that neither boys nor girls, nor grown
up men and women, were one whit more unhappy in those
days than they are in these. They lived in a little world ;
but that little world was merry enough in spite of its ignor-
ance, and they who could sing and dance also knew the habits
of birds and beasts, the lore of the woodland, the weaving
of the wool, and loved the whistle of the ploughman and the
ringing of the blacksmith's anvil.

After speaking of the then sad side of human society,
L. F. Salzman, in his most helpful book, English Life in the
Middle Ages, says : ' Yet all this disease and poverty and
cruelty could not quench the note of joy, and the Middle
Ages were full of laughter. Humour played a very large
part in mediaeval life.' So Professor Huizinga, in his
Waning of the Middle Ages, thus sums up the contradictions
of those times : ' So violent and motley was life, that it

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 73

bore the mixed smell of blood and of roses. The men of that
time always oscillate between the fear of hell and the most
naive joy, between cruelty and tenderness, between harsh
asceticism and insane attachment to the delights of this world,
between hatred and goodness, always running to extremes.'

Well, in that little world the people not only believed in
legends of the saints, but they worshipped the saints. You
will say that they did not know any more. That may be
true. But they believed and worshipped because they
loved. No nobler prelate ever sat on the throne of Canter-
bury than St. Dunstan. A pleasant story tells how once
he held the Devil fast in a pair of red-hot pincers. Only
Alfred the Great excelled this bishop as a patron of learning
and education. His virtues led to his canonization. His
school at Canterbury bore evidence to his zeal. There the
boys learned to love him. The love lasted long after his
day. Future generations of boys remembered him. In
their studies, they prayed to him for help and perseverance,
and in their punishments, which were severe to the point
of torture, they cried for protection to ' dear Father
Dunstan.' In their little world, ' dear Father Dunstan '
was very real and not far away.

A little world ! And in those ages Europe was covered
with little worlds ! In such worlds men are not likely to
think or to do what we call great things. They live quiet,
uneventful, unprogressive lives. And when any one died,
as some one did once in a while, the dead one, as we have
already said, did not go far away. The body was buried
in the churchyard near by, but, for some time at least, the
spirit frequented the places with which it had been long
familiar. Sometimes it gave messages to the living, and
sometimes it became so troublesome with its appearances
that it had to be laid. This was done by asking it a question
which it could not answer. No one doubted the possibility
of these apparitions. The Apostles themselves, when in
the night-time they saw a Figure walking on the Sea of
Galilee, cried out for fear, ' It is a ghost ! ' Jesus did not
tell them that such appearances did not happen. Later He
declared that a spirit had not flesh and bones. In old time,
some people had seen such with their own eyes, or knew of
others who had. Indeed, here and there men and women
had died after going through this experience. And not
only were there ghosts, but also fairies, imps, goblins, and
the like survivals of pagan times : some morose and mis-

74 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

chievous, others kindly and helpful, all nowadays in evil
repute. But they lived in that little world.

One of the most curious traits in these little worlds was the
familiarity of the people with the Devil. I do not mean to
imply that he and they were boon companions, though
occasionally we hear of a ' stranger ' attending a feast at
which wines and ales were abundant and good company
hilarious. The stranger said little, but drank much. Every
man present saw him, and guessed who he was, but none
spoke to him. Generally he was treated with respect
perhaps on the assumption that it was well to keep on
pleasant terms with one who could do so much harm. No
little care was taken to avoid speaking harshly or unkindly
of him. He might be close at hand, and if he overheard
would be likely to take offence. In such cases, flocks and
herds suffered, and crops came short. In the dairy milk
turned sour. Foxes and hawks seriously reduced the barn-
yard fowls and pigeons. Misfortune after misfortune hap-
pened : in winter gales and snowstorms, fearful in the
damage they wrought, in summer drought or flood, thunder
and lightning, hail, fever, and accident. It was right and
safe enough in church to speak of renouncing the Devil and
all his works ; but elsewhere, in the everyday life, and
especially late at night on the way home from the tavern or
the bowling-green, it was discreet not to say anything about
such things, and to keep in mind that he is a wise man who
makes a friend when he has the chance. Moreover, if unfor-
tunately hereafter a man should fall into his hands, the
Devil would not forget that the man had kindly treated him.
There would be an understanding between them.

At the same time one had to be careful. People addicted
to witchcraft had sold themselves for certain privileges, and
at all times a bargain is a bargain. Nothing could save
them. They were damned before they died. But straight-
living, God-fearing folk should know Satan only as they
know an obnoxious forest-keeper or thieving miller an
individual to be shunned and avoided, or, if it can be done
safely, to be disappointed and annoyed. Thus, in the old
little worlds, there were men and women who sought to run
on both sides, and to keep in with dove and falcon even
as to-day.

But the Devil was artful, and played sorry tricks on the
people of those times. No one imagined him going about
like a roaring lion. Bather was he pictured lurking fox-like,

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 75

silent and sly, ready at the opportunity to pounce upon his
unwary victim. He crept into places where he could do
most evil. Hence the authorities strictly prescribed that
every font should have a locked cover ; and Dr. Coulton
reminds us that the hasp, or traces of it, are almost always
visible at the present day. Not only did men find Satan
near them in their devotions, but he pestered them in their
studies. One day St. Dominic discovered it difficult to
keep his mind on his reading. He looked about him, and
saw near by a sparrow. He at once discerned the Devil in
the sparrow. He caught the bird, and, that he might
torment the disturbing demon, he plucked the feathers alive
out of the poor, squirming creature. Thus, too, many a fly
has been thrust out of life at the hands, say, of a schoolboy
busy with his books, or of a churchwarden on a warm
Sunday afternoon when intent on absorbing the sermon.
Everybody knows that flies are demons.

But in the old days Satan did not confine himself to
sparrows or flies. Next to the toad and the serpent, the
spider was the Devil's favourite disguise, as it was also
more venomous than they. There are no spiders in heaven,
so say the mediaeval poets ; nor in Ireland, for everybody
knows that St. Patrick cleared the country of all vermin,
though some may have crept back since. But elsewhere the
Devil made the best use he could of churches. A pet pas-
time of his was to drop a spider into the chalice. This some-
times happened in other places. Leontes, in the Winter's
Tale, says :

* There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected : but if one present
The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.'

All the more fearsome such episodes at the altar. The
Devil thus perplexed St. Conrad and St. Norbert, and not
a few other holy men, in the most solemn moments of the
Mass. We are told that the blessed William, abbot of
Clairvaux in 1236, one day when about to drain the sacred
vessel saw a spider fall therein. He could not fail to discern
the Devil in the beast. From the Ckronicon Villarense we
learn, that ' not considering the horror of taking this spider
in the draught, the Father, for the reverence of the Sacred

76 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Blood, swallowed the nauseous insect.' This was bad
enough ; indeed, it is difficult to imagine one thus taking
in the Devil alive. But fact sometimes outstrips imagina-
tion, and the Chronicle adds : ' It was about a year after-
wards that a pustule formed in one of the good priest's fingers,
from which, instead of matter, there came forth this spider,
whole and entire.' This story of itself suggests the intimacy
and the playfulness the Devil had every now and then with
the people of those distant days. One wonders if the dislike
diligent housewives have for spiders owes any of its strength
to the ancient supposition that the Devil and the spider were
closely associated.

But, after all, even in those little worlds, the Devil did not
always have things his own way. He could be fooled, as is
witnessed by the bridges, punch-bowls, frying-pans, dykes,
walls, and dens named after him. Such constructions are
scattered over the country, in lonely, weird, uncanny places,
and testify to his having been outwitted by man. That
human ingenuity was always superior to diabolical craft is
not certain. But very early it was discovered that the Devil
had an invincible dislike for holy water. A few drops taken
from a well frequented by some man of God, or consecrated
in solemn rite, and sprinkled on the brow, would protect the
devout soul from his machinations. This water would be
found useful in times of sickness, and infallible against
ghosts, witches, and necromancers. Happier still was the
conviction that the ringing of bells would drive away demons
of every sort. No devil could enter the sanctuary during
or immediately after the sounding of the church bells, either
in chime or in peal. The bells spread the music of heaven
far and wide. They called the angels, and silenced the
spirits of evil. Into the clerestory came God's birds
seraphim and cherubim, beautiful in form and rich in song.
From windows and eaves, nooks and crevices, in haste and
confusion, dismayed and defeated, fled the powers of dark-
ness : unearthly shapes, of colour black, with heavy, flop-
ping wings, and dismal, croaking voices.

The ages and the little worlds differ one from another.
So with the people of the multiplying generations. A given
individual cannot be happier in any generation or age other
than his own. This fact should keep us from disparaging
the past and from over-praising the present. We could not
live in those little worlds, but the people who did were as
happy and useful as they possibly could be.

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 77

I do not intend by anything I have said to imply that in
those days men did not think. In Western Europe before
the Renaissance, say, before the fifteenth century, the
spacious days of Greece and Rome had indeed become little
more than a memory ; but people were as able as ever to
reflect and to exercise judgment. There is no evidence that
in mental power man advances or goes back as the ages
proceed. He may not have known as much in remote
Chaldean or Egyptian periods, and therefore had not as
much to occupy his mind, but he could think as well as he
can to-day. Indeed, I doubt if the average citizen of
London, New York, or Paris is in intellectual ability the equal
of the corresponding man of Athens, say, in Pericles 's day.
Anyway, out of those little worlds of the past came men at
whose feet the generations will sit till the end of time :
Homer, Plato, Isaiah, Dante, Shakespeare. Aristophanes
has been laughing through the centuries, and Demosthenes
holds his own even with Edmund Burke and Daniel Webster.
The Church has not yet produced a second Athanasius or a
second Augustine. Richard Hooker still remains in an
exceedingly small company. He who shaped the figure of
the Venus de Milo has not been surpassed ; no human eye
has seen farther into the spiritual world than did Era
Angelico ; and Raffaelo Sanzio and Michel Angelo still stand
alone. So that the little world of which I have spoken is
not to be taken through and through as dense in ignorance
or degraded in credulity. The peasant indeed might tell
the ghost-story, and the wise-woman sketch the fairy-dance ;
but there were also scholars and artists, stalwart men of arms
and keen-witted artisans, and priests pure in habit and rich in
thought, and merchants who crossed the seas, and women
who loved as women have always loved, and it was people of
this kind who discovered the legends and recognized the
miracles which have made evident and picturesque the saints
who adorn the calendar and excite the emulation of believers.

The things that modern times laugh at or ignore were to
them real and important. You ask, Were the things true?
Most of us ask that question, whatever we may mean by it.
But we have gone so far from things spiritual and religious
that we may doubt our ability to answer it at least, as I
have already intimated, in the more serious instances. The
people of old lived with God near at hand. In some way or
other they heard Him in the storm-cloud and in the quiver-
ing leaf. He was present in the forest, the sea, the spring-

78 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

tide, the well of waters, and in hallowed sacrament on every
altar, and doing wondrous deed at every font. And the
angels were everywhere, as surely as they were with Jacob
at Bethel or with Christ in the wilderness. They came to
the little child in baptism, walked with him through life,
and at the last carried him safely into the land of the blessed.
The older people called them the good folk, sprites, elves,
or messengers of the gods. The name mattered little.
They were ever present, kind, loving, generous. The flowers,
fragrant and many coloured, in wilderness or in garden,
were odds and ends which fell from their robes, full of life,
and dropping on green bough made glad the heart of man.
Perhaps life was richer and more abundant in the ages when
men not only believed in, but also felt, these spiritual
influences. Is it not so with those who retain this conscious-
ness ? And the dead were there any dead ? Did they not
sleep or wait in expectation ? Did they not know the
present which to them had become eternal ? Did they not
help the loved ones left in the wilderness yet to toil and
suffer till the day when angels should carry them to their
rest ? And help, too, not merely as a memory, but as an
actual, living inspiration ?

If you do not realize this closeness of the unseen to the
seen, of the spiritual to the physical perhaps not to the
extent of the ancients, yet in some degree you will not
appreciate the growth of miracle and legend. Clear and
plain to the people of old time, to you they are as idle tales.
You can no more interpret them than the ancients could
understand wireless telegraphy. You dismiss them because
they are strange : the ancients believed them for that very
reason. Had they not been strange, exceptional, there had
been nothing in them. That they were contrary to law,
meant nothing to people who did not assume that they knew
law, or supposed that they had penetrated and understood
all the mysteries of the universe. Probably there were
agnostics and infidels then as now. It was a very old writer
who said : ' The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God/
In the littlest of those little worlds, among the ignorant as
well as among the learned, there were people who did not
believe in anything that required faith.

In Arthur Lionel Smith's Ford Lectures on Church and
State in the Middle Ages, given at Oxford in 1905, We are
told that Fra Salimbene of Parma having been disappointed
in the prophecies of Abbot Joachim concerning the begin-

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 79

ning of the Age of the Holy Ghost, when the year 1260 went
by, said : ' I dropped all that doctrine, and mean to believe
only what I actually see.'

Professor G. G. Coulton produces some striking illus-
trations to the same point. Our own John Gower, writing
in the latter part of the fourteenth century, speaking of
the dishonesty of the merchants of his time, adds : ' ' I know
not why I should preach to such merchants concerning the
joys of heaven or the pains of hell ; for they well know that
he who multiplies money in this life gets at least honour of
his body. One of them said to me the other day : " He who
can get the sweetness of this life, and lets it go, would be a
fool in my opinion ; for after that, no man knoweth the
truth, whither or by what ways we go." Thus do the mer-
chants of our day dispute and say ; and thus will they
commonly answer.' There was more of this sort of thing
in the late Middle Ages, and especially in Spain, where the
Mohammedan had so long held sway, than the reader would
gather from much that I have said, both in towns and also
in remote country places. But I have had in mind days
long before the Crusades began to clear the way for the
coming of the Renaissance. In these beginnings of modern
times, not only did wise men argue on fundamentals of the
faith, while coarse-minded peasants not infrequently dropped
into depths undistinguishable from fetishism, but unbelief
crept in concerning the legends and relics of the saints. Sir
John Mandeville, about the year 1370, had no little per-
plexity over the multiplication of St. John the Baptist's
head. ' I know not,' said he, ' which is true, but God knows ;
but however men worship it, the blessed John is satisfied.*

But in earlier times sceptics were more exceptional, and
not infrequently they came to a bad end. If they were
troublesome, both pagan and Christian disposed of them.
The priests of Amen had their way with the priests of Aten,
and there was no love lost between the men who held with
Celsus and the men who favoured Origen. Even Joshua did
his best to demolish the Canaanites. Elijah dyed the waters
of Kishon with the blood of the priests of Baal. And in the
Middle Ages, many an infidel and many a necromancer was
hurried out of the possibility of further mischief.

We have nicer and neater ways of battling with adver-
saries in our day. The ancients may have killed their
atheists and witches unselfishly for their own good. When
dead they could do no more harm to the living, and they

80 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

were thereby saved from incurring further wrath. We have
no such tenderness for those who differ from us. Our faith
rarely enables us to believe in its own imperishable nature.
We seldom consider it so true and strong that it can be left
to take care of itself. We are afraid of it and for it. If we
do not fight for it, it will die. In this respect, after all, we
are much the same as our forefathers. They had more
certainty than we, or, at least, they could exercise it easier
than we can ; but again, human nature being what it is, we
may be sure they did not feel over kindly to those who
denied the objects of their faith.

I refer to this dark cloud which sometimes overspread the
* ages of faith ' with which we are dealing, because I would
not have it supposed that man has ever had greater love
because he has had greater faith ; or, to put it the other way,
I do not think that the consciousness of the invisible, or the
capacity of accepting the exceptional and miraculous,
necessarily leads to either breadth of thought or expression
of love. The men who told and believed in the legends and
miracles associated with St. James of Compostella, no doubt
had reasons for their faith which we cannot understand,
and which we have no right to scoff at or to pronounce im-
possible ; but I have not discovered that they were gentler,
kinder, more self-sacrificing, or more considerate because of
their faith. On the contrary, we shall find that the more
they believed, the more they sharpened their swords, and
that the deeds they did were not always the shadows of the
things they believed. And this is true of the good they
accomplished as well as of the evil they attempted.

But whether the legend or the miracle be true or false, it
may have an influence widespread and lasting, and of
tremendous strength. Once accepted, age adds to its power
and honour. The time comes when no question may be
asked, and no suspicion entertained concerning its integrity.
Men may not know its origin, but they are satisfied that it
is all right. That it has been believed in for generations,
and more certainly so if it has been approved of by men
of authority, especially if they are now dead, is sufficient to
intimidate the most adventurous and the most sacrilegious
of inquirers, and more than sufficient to justify its main-
tenance as fundamental to thought and necessary to action.
Antiquity is not always a mark of verity, but it is always
venerable, and, as Burke says : ' Veneration of antiquity is
congenial to the human mind.' We love that|which is old ;

THE LITTLE WORLDS IN OLDEN TIME 81

and the greater our love, the more precarious becomes our
regard for its truth. Sometimes the more faith it demands,
or the more impossible it seems, the easier is its acceptance :
' Credo quia absurdum,' or, according to Tertullian, ' Certum
est quia impossibile est.' Sometimes, too, a legend is so
pretty, perhaps even beautiful, that without thinking one
feels that it ought to be true. And not a few people will
hold that a thing which ought to be true, is true.

More than this. Faulty and suspicious though the tradi-
tion may chance to be', people have lived and wrought upon
it. According to it, they have shaped careers, built up
theories, decided doubts, and conducted individual and
national life. And still more. The outcome may have
been beneficial and desirable. No one now believes in the
Egyptian Anubis or the Greek Nemesis, but no one can doubt
that the people who did believe in them, and therefore feared
them, were helped by their faith to live a more careful life.

Possibly much of what I have said may seem pragmatism.
I do not intend it to be taken as such. But this I think.
A mother who has been robbed of her child by death, goes
with her broken, grief-driven heart to seek for consolation,
in one age or land to the shrine of a goddess at Philae, in
another to the brink of the Ganges, in another to the image
under the rock in the wilderness, in another to the cross by
Bohemian roadside, in another to the altar of a saint in
cathedral crypt, in yet another to the relics of St. James the
Great, and in still another to the bedside where her loved
one died, or the grave where the loved one is buried ; and
no matter whether she seeks for Isis, or Gautama, or Nanna,
or Christ, or Genevieve, or Santiago, or the spirit of the
dead, she rises from her knees comforted, encouraged, hope-
ful, and with a new vision of life. The father who laid his
firstborn in the arms of Moloch had the same faith as he who
beholds his best-loved boy dying int he burning fever. I
do not say that the object of faith matters nothing ; but it
does seem that faith has in itself, apart from its object, a
Vital and sustaining power.

So I am led, on the one hand, to think it possible that
miracles were wrought at Compostella, even as they are
still wrought at Lourdes and at Lhassa, and among so-called
' faith-healers ' in city slums. But I do not think that the
miracles in themselves are of much worth ; and I do not
care to trouble myself about their verity, though I admit
their consequences.

CHAPTER VIII

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN

TWELVE or fourteen years passed between the Day of Pente-
cost and the death of St. James the Great. The Book of
the Acts of the Apostles affords us no information concern-
ing the life or work of St. James in those years. We may
reasonably infer that he was not slack in his service for
Christ. He did not make as deep or lasting an impression
on the Church as his brother John or their fellow-disciple
St. Peter ; but he seems to have been as devoted and ener-
getic as they. He missed a biographer : perhaps because
he filled whatever office he held so steadfastly and unassum-
ingly, that he attracted no attention either by extraordinary
exploits or reprehensible failures. He simply did what was
expected of him as a matter of course. Episodes did not
befall him. But he was distinguished enough to make it
worth Herod's while to put him to death.

Still, though history has passed him by, it is not im-
probable that stories about him may have been handed on
either by word of mouth or in documents which quickly
perished. Thus some reports of the Apostle were carefully
preserved by Epiphanius, one of the celebrated Fathers of
the fourth century by the way, a contemporary of St.
Jerome, and archbishop of Constantia or Salamis, the metro-
polis of Cyprus, a man of encyclopaedic knowledge, a linguist
and an ascetic, and chiefly famous for having discovered,
analysed, and provided remedies for eighty varieties of
heresy. According to Alban Butler, Epiphanius says
' that St. James always lived a bachelor, in much temper-
ance and mortification, never eating flesh nor fish ; that he
wore only one coat, and a linen cloak, and that he was holy
and exemplary in all manner of conversation.' Here we
have the picture of an ascetic, though we need not suppose
that St. Epiphanius intended to suggest anything exceptional
in the mention of the Apostle's virtuous life. According to
the hagiologists, all the Apostles were faultless and exem-
plary : even St. Peter when he got over his mendacity and

82

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 83

habit of swearing, and the sons of Zebedee, when they had
won the mastery of their hot tempers. It will be observed,
however, that Epiphanius says nothing about St. James's
ability as a preacher ; but about this time rumours began
to float into hearing that St. James had been a missionary in
Spain, and had laid the foundations of the Church there.
Of these rumours, however, Epiphanius says not a word.

It is probable, and indeed plausible, that St. John the
brother of James devoted his life to the work of the
Church in Asia Minor ; and it is possible, though open to
grave doubts, that St. Peter preached in Rome, and, after
having served twenty-five years as bishop of Antioch,
served another twenty-five as bishop of the imperial city ;
but the silence of tradition for wellnigh four centuries
dampens the likelihood that St. James found his field of
enterprise in Spain. It was, however, an attractive sugges-
tion ; and so attractive that there seems to have been no
difficulty in the way of its adoption. We may object, but
St. Jerome vouches for the fact ; and, do our best, we cannot
show that silence proves or disproves anything. We do
not know that the men of the fourth century were wrong.
If of the three leading Apostles, the ecclesiastical trium-
virate appointed by our Lord, one stayed in the East, and
another went to Rome, what more appropriate than that
the third should go to the West ? Certainly, from St. Isidore
of Seville in the sixth century to Alban Butler in the eigh-
teenth, including the Bollandist Fathers, affirmation is con-
stantly made of the fact. Why should we expect St. Jerome
to have troubled himself about authorities, when nearly
sixteen centuries of scholars and historians are satisfied of
the truth of his statement ?

Nor may it be forgotten that a local or national church
that could trace its beginnings directly to an Apostle, or at
least to an evangelist of the first Christian generation, had
an honour and stood higher in dignity than a church of later
and inferior origin. Who can tell the glory which befell
Glastonbury from the planting of a thorn-bush brought
there by Joseph of Arimathea 1 the very thorn-bush, by
the way, when it was growing in Judea, out of which came
the crown for Calvary. And so the Church of England,
which had no connection with the old British Church,
planted, so some said, by St. Paul himself, but was a daughter
of the Church of Rome, and therefore of late sixth-century
genesis, had no such position as the Church of Spain founded

84 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

by one of the great Apostles. Canterbury might talk of
St. Augustine, but Compostella could outstand Canterbury
in dignity as the Church of St. James.

Spain needed an Apostle. She had long been to the
eastern world much that many centuries later America
became to Europe : a new country, abounding in oppor-
tunities and chances for the adventurous, a land ambitious,
daring, free from customs and laws that had oppressed and
would in time outwear ancient kingdoms and republics, and
presenting attractions strange, promising, and mysterious.
In the post-exilic midrash entitled ' Jonah/ an imaginative
and symbolical story founded on the supposed exploits of
an Israelitish prophet living in the eighth or seventh century
before Christ, we are told of ships sailing from Joppa to the
country called Tarshish, at the other end of the Mediter-
ranean, and corresponding to our Southern Spain. The
prophet is represented as seeking to avoid a mission to
Nineveh by taking passage in one of these ships bound for
Tarshish. We are scarcely concerned with what befell him
on the way. Like similar legends with which we may have
to treat, the narrative is to be understood symbolically, and
not literally. It may be said that our Lord spoke of Jonah
as having been three days and three nights in the belly of
the sea-monster, but such an allusion no more implies
reality than would a reference to a well-known but fictitious
character or event in romance or poetry. We all quote
Falstaff and Wolsey and Hamlet without for one moment
supposing that we are uttering historical and literal truth.
No one is confused in reading that the Babylonian Tiamat,
the dragon of chaos, the monster or great fish of the deep,
swallowed up Israel, when one remembers that figuratively
this is what Nebuchadrezzar did to the people. Jonah's
adventures aptly symbolize Israel's condition in the Baby-
lonian captivity : storm-driven, devoured, swallowed up,
carried away, and afterwards delivered and thrown out.

Were we not dealing with miracles and legends, we should
not have made this digression ; but the digression illus-
trates our subject. The two points, however, that immedi-
ately affect us are, first, that Jonah paid his fare, implying
that the traffic between east and west was established and
that passengers regularly went hither and thither ; and,
secondly, that the prophet sailed for Tarshish, which at
once implies the importance of that country. I do not
know how exact the writer of ' Jonah ' was to his story.

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 85

Possibly he described things, not as they were in the days
of the prophet, but as they were in his own time. That was
about three hundred years before Christ ; and Tarshish (or
Tartessus) had been explored and partly settled much earlier
by Phoenician colonists. Abdera, Malaca, Carteia, and
Gadeira, the last two now known as Gibraltar and Cadiz,
were ports of entry. It has been conjectured that voyagers
went from Cadiz along the western coasts perhaps as far as
Cornwall, if not to Ireland. Other settlements were effected.
The Greeks had colonies in the Peninsula long before Jonah's
time, or rather, the hero of the book so called ; and about
243 B.C. the Carthaginians founded Carthago Nova, now
Cartagena, even as in a distant future, and with the same
home-love, on the farther shores of the Atlantic, the Hollanders
should found a New Amsterdam and the English should
rename it New York. .H Jonah preferred a more hopeful
field, undoubtedly Tarshish far excelled Nineveh. The
country at that time was sparsely settled, and untrodden
wildernesses lay north towards the snow-mountains and west
towards the dark sea ; but it had towns and villages throb-
bing with enterprise and speculation, and in the course of a few
hundred years was sure to become rich in much that goes
to make up civilization.

A New World ! In its way important as America has
grown to be, and, like America, more conservative than
the mother countries, prouder and more self-confident than
Greece or Rome, more adventurous even than Egypt or
Phoenicia ! One of Rome's noblest developments !

Divided into three provinces, which roughly correspond
with the geographical features of the peninsula, before the
Christian era began, the southern districts had become
practically Roman ; and the western region, our modern
Portugal, fertile and peaceful, needed the presence of few
troops ; but the northern and north-western parts, which
included the country afterwards famous as the abiding place
of Santiago, still contained some disturbing and unconquered
tribes. A strong garrison was kept at Leon to overawe these
tribes. Julius Caesar, governor of that province in 61 B.C.,
gave them some of his attention. He made his way to the tin
mines in Galicia. The government conceded to discharged
soldiers grants of land, and some of these became flour-
ishing municipalities. The mineral resources of the country,
iron, copper, silver, and lead, were developed to an extent
said never to have been equalled since. Men, too, were born

86 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

there who distinguished themselves among the greatest in
the empire. At Cordoba, of a well-to-do equestrian family,
were born in the century next before the Christian era the
two Senecas, of whom the son became one of Rome's greatest
statesmen and philosophers. Lucan, Martial, and Quintilian
were also natives of Spain. So were the emperor Trajan and
his successor Hadrian. Later in time, Galicia itself con-
tributed its sons : Prudentius, Priscillian, Paulus Orosius,
and Idatio. In almost every particular, for the first two
centuries of our era Spain enjoyed a prosperity scarcely to
be found elsewhere within the bounds of the great empire.

In the expansion of Christianity, Spain could not be over-
looked. It had possibilities quite as wonderful as Italy itself.
St. Paul, whose missionary zeal admitted no restraints,
thought of Spain. Writing from Corinth to the Romans, he
spoke of the time when he should take his journey into Spain
as though such a journey had been long contemplated and
talked of ; and he expresses the intention to go there by
way of the imperial city. It is doubtful if his desire was
realized. In the 'Acts of Peter,' written not later than
A.D. 200, St. Paul is said to have received a vision from the
Lord bidding him go into Spain, and a description is given
of his setting out from Rome on his voyage ; but the story
does not help much. More significant is the unbroken silence
of the Spanish legends. Neither in Spain nor in any of the
Latin countries was St. Paul ever popular. He has rarely
been a favourite, except with theologians, and Spanish hagio-
logists made nothing of him. Indeed, there is not a tittle
of evidence that either St. Peter or St. Paul went to Spain,
though foreign tradition says they did, immediately after the
Crucifixion.

Nor have we any records concerning the introduction of
Christianity into Spain. But that Spain was not slow in
turning to the new faith is shown by her martyrs. Before
the century had run out, in the reign of Domitian, St.
Eugenius, the first great name in Spanish martyrology,
received the baptism of blood. This happened at Toledo,
that most ancient of cities, founded, some said, by Hercules,
others said by Tubal the grandson of Noah, replete with
memories of Jewish exiles driven there by Nebuchadrezzar,
marked with the signs of Carthaginian traders, and made a
colonia by the Romans. Never was Tertullian's saying, ' The
blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church,' more directly
illustrated. Toledo became one of the greatest centres of

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 87

Spanish ecclesiastical life. Eugenius, the city's first bishop
as well as its first martyr, is claimed to have been a disciple
of St. Paul, and besides him three of his successors, Eladius,
Ildefonso, and Julian, were canonized. The first Spanish
national synod was held in 589 at Toledo, and later other
councils much more important.

Other martyrs and witnesses of the Faith followed :
Mancius at Evora, under Trajan ; Facundus and Primitivus
in Galicia, under Marcus Aurelius ; and the more celebrated
Fructuosus at Tarragona, under Gallienus. The Galician
martyrs have some legends to themselves, but we need not
turn to them at this time.

The martyr Fructuosus, still patron of the city in which he
died, must be distinguished from the even more famous St.
Fructuosus, next to St. Emilianus, one of the founders of
Spanish monachism : and with this purpose in mind, we feel
justified in telling his story here. We may add by the way
that Emilianus, who died in the year 570, obtained from the
severity of his life such fame, that some authorities have
claimed for him a joint-patronage of Spain with St. James
of Compostella. Good and deserving as he was, it is needless
to say that the claim has never been accepted. St. James
holds the office alone.

Early in the seventh century, the St. Fructuosus of whom
we would now speak, the son of a wealthy and powerful
Galician nobleman, attained widespread celebrity for his
holiness as an anchorite. He built his cell in the lonely and
remote valley called El Vierzo, embedded amidst lofty moun-
tains, the Switzerland of Leon, and through which in after
years ran the pilgrims' road to Compostella. Thither resorted
multitudes of like-minded men from many parts of Spain.
Soon the valley swarmed with hermits and anchorites, a veri-
table second Thebais ; a monastery called that of Compludo
was established ; and the whole region became filled with
shrines, retreats, and sanctuaries, the number of which, we
are told, God alone, who can count the stars of heaven,
could enumerate. In after years St. Fructuosus founded
other houses in places distant from his sacred valley. He
obtained a bishopric, and in 656 was translated to the metro-
politan see of Braga. A shy, tender-hearted, but energetic
man, he is said in all his wanderings to have been accom-
panied by a pet hind or doe. The poor beast was killed by
an enemy. Fructuosus wept, but he forgave the heartless
slayer of his little fondling. About the year 660, the good

88 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

^

man died ; and some six hundred years later his remains
were taken to Compostella, where they rest in a chapel of
the cathedral. He is one of Galicia's favourite saints, and
none there is more worthy. A mystic and a poet, of deepest
and truest religious instinct, we are told of him, so the author
of The Story of Santiago de Compostela reminds us, that
' by the immaculate innocence of his life, by the spiritual fire
of his contemplations, he made virtues shine into the hearts
of his countrymen/

From the founder of monasteries we turn back again to
the days of the martyr of Tarragona. The white-robed army
of confessors and martyrs increased with the centuries, till
in the year 304, at Valencia, under tortures almost indescrib-
able, died one of the best-known and best-loved saints, not
only of Spain, but of all Christendom, Vincent the Deacon.
' Under the persecution of Diocletian,' says the Encyclopaedia
Britannica, quoting from authorities such as the Acta Sanc-
torum, ' Vincent was arrested and taken to Valencia. , Having
stood firm in his profession before Dacianus, the governor,
he was subjected to excruciating tortures and thrown into
prison, where angels visited him, lighting his dungeon with
celestial light and relieving his sufferings. His warders,
having seen these wonders through the chinks of the wall,
forthwith became Christians. He was afterwards brought
out and laid upon a soft mattress in order that he might
regain sufficient strength for new torments ; but, while
Dacianus was meditating punishment, the saint gently
breathed his last. The tyrant exposed his body to wild
beasts, but a raven miraculously descended and protected
it. It was then thrown into the sea, but was cast up on the
shore, recovered by a pious woman, and buried outside
Valencia.' St. Augustine attests that in his lifetime the
festival of the saint was celebrated throughout the Christian
world, January 22. The cape at the extreme south-western
point of the peninsula is named after him, while Lisbon
continues to honour him as its patron saint. How his body
was brought from Valencia to Lisbon I shall tell later.

A few years after this, perhaps in 306, not later than 316,
and at least nine years before the Oecumenical Council of
Nicea, a church council was held at Elvira or Illiberis, on
the site of the modern Granada, the first council, after the
one called at Jerusalem by the Apostles, of whose proceed-
ings we have authentic records ; nor will scholars forget the
part at Nicea itself taken by Hosius, bishop of Cordoba, and

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 89

a confidential friend of the emperor Constantino the Great.
Dean Stanley says that there Hosius was an object of deeper
concern to Christendom than any bishop of Rome. He is
spoken of by Tillemont as having gravity, dignity, gentle-
ness, wisdom, generosity, and in fact all the qualities of a
great soul and a great bishop.

Thus, in the earliest centuries, the country not only
abounded in churches, bishoprics, and monasteries, but also
produced prelates and scholars of ability and zeal. More
than this : Spain quickly learned the shortest way of dealing
with heretics. No matter what their religion, Pagan,
Jewish, Buddhist, or Christian, earnest and devout people
are apt to become narrow-minded, perhaps bigoted. The
more faith they acquire in one direction, the more they lose
in another. They grow afraid of differences of opinion, for-
getting that in dealing with subjects which are infinite,
differences are unavoidable. They pity the heretic, but they
fear him, and if any love for him be left it expresses itself
in weakening him, perhaps in killing him, so that he can do
no more mischief to himself or to any one else. St. Paul
went so far as to deliver two men, who had made shipwreck
concerning the faith, over to Satan, which, whatever else
it may mean, indicates punishment of some severity and
yet for the good of the condemned : ' that they may be
taught not to blaspheme.' So did the Spanish Church, not
out of cruelty or from barbarism, but honestly thinking it
was doing God service.

Take, for instance, the case of Priscillian an instance that
at one time would have mightily pleased Elijah and the sons
of Zebedee. Intensely spiritual, while still a layman, Priscil-
lian regarded the Christian life as continual intercourse with
God. To further this idea, he became a mystic, and advo-
cated a hard and an almost impossible asceticism. Others
came to his way of thinking : which suggests that in the
community some laxity of morals prevailed. Among other
things, the reformers condemned marriage, and insisted on
continence. With catholic doctrine they dealt lightly,
though as their views spread and the authorities discovered
their pernicious quality, they were accused of Manichaeism
and of practising magic. Opposition naturally increased
their zeal. The sect grew in numbers and strength. It
succeeded in getting Priscillian made bishop of Avila ; and
several bishops joined with him in carrying out his policy.
A synod held at Saragossa in 380 excommunicated him and

90 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

other leading Priscillianists. The orthodox party invoked
the help of the Emperor Gratian, and the emperor issued
an edict threatening the sectarian leaders with banishment ;
but three of the offending bishops placated Gratian, and held
their own till the emperor's death. Then the struggle broke
out with renewed vigour.

To bring back peace, which was the thing above all others
that the government desired, in 384, Maximus, the new
emperor, convoked a council at Treves. The council was
severe, in spite of the efforts of Ambrose of Milan and Martin
of Tours to stay the hand of persecution. Priscillian appealed
to the emperor, and, driven on by ecclesiastical conditions
which threatened to disrupt the empire, the emperor adopted
drastic measures. In 385, Priscillian and six of his com-
panions were burned alive at Treves. No voice seems to
have been raised to avert the fate of these men. Like the
Cathari, the Puritans, and other sects which from age to
age have sought to revive the strictness of life which pre-
vailed in primitive Christianity, and to destroy the last
vestiges of naturalism, even though that naturalism were
necessary to the continuation of life, the Priscillians had to
suffer the consequences of their convictions. The Church
found it impossible to accept their theory of asceticism ;
but she had to compromise by enacting celibacy for the
clergy. Henceforth the clergy were forbidden to marry, and
this not as a matter of discipline, but because of the Priscil-
lian doctrine that marriage was unclean and sinful in itself.
Priscillianism lingered on in Spain for nearly two hundred
years. It failed, as all such efforts fail, not from the lack
of self-sacrifice and honesty of purpose, but from proposing
restraints on human conduct more evil in themselves than
the evils they are designed to correct. And yet such efforts
have kept the Church constantly striving for such integrity
of manners, as well as of faith, necessary to her ideals and
claims. The twist of Priscillianism to heresy, if it existed
at all, was very slight. A careful examination of its author's
writings has brought scholars to the conclusion that ' they
contain nothing that is not orthodox and commonplace,
nothing that Jerome might not have written ' ; and the
writings go far, says the Encyclopaedia Sritannica, to justify
the description of Priscillian as ' the first martyr burned by a
Spanish inquisition.'

We have thus wandered into the history of a Church which
from its inception was pronounced in aggressiveness, energy,

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 91

and enthusiasm ; but we are still without information as to
its origin. There is no question, however, that Christianity
was established in Spain early and firmly, and, as we have
seen, lacked none of its characteristic virtues. With her
scholars and martyrs, her bishops and missionaries, in the
diadem of Christian provinces which encircled the Mediter-
ranean no jewel shone more resplendently than the country
of the far west.

As to the beginnings, till legend comes to our help we can
only conjecture. Probably the seed which yielded a harvest
so abundant was scattered by many hands : merchants who
traded from the East, and had their agents in most cities ;
sailors and soldiers ever passing hither and thither in that
Roman world ; state officials, broad-minded men, who knew
everything that was going on from Britain to Africa and the
Euphrates to the Atlantic ; women, ever the more eager
adherents of the Cross, and indeed of all religions ; practically
all sorts and conditions of people, some settled in the land,
others newcomers, immigrants, Greeks and Jews converted
to the Faith a multitude such as would have business with
and in one of the most important and energetic colonies in
the empire. No one man led in such a dissemination of the
Gospel : no one set of evangelists. The winds of heaven
carried to the West and over the peninsula the tidings of a
religion which held within itself both the best of the old
cults and philosophies and also a revelation of God, energized
and overrunning with life and hope and strength. The
tidings, like plumed seeds, fastened themselves and took
root everywhere. Such is most likely the real story of the
advent and propagation of the Gospel in Spain.

But as time went on, and it became apparent to all Chris-
tendom that the Churches in Asia Minor, and much more the
Church at Rome, had gained in importance and dignity,
perhaps beyond all other Churches, from being able to trace
their origin to two of the chief Apostles, the Church in Spain
awakened to the significance of the rumours which attributed
its foundation to the remaining Apostle of the Great Three.
Whence the rumours came, on what facts they were based,
or why they were quiescent and unheard of for nearly four
hundred years, provoked no inquiry when they were actually
here. The generation that discovered them and brought
them to life never encountered dispute. As I have already
stated, for centuries, more than ten of them, no one doubted
that James the son of Zebedee spent some part of the

92 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

fourteen years before his martyrdom in the evangelization
of Spain.

Among the renowned and learned men who upheld this
tradition, we find no less a scholar than that historian of the
Lombards, known as Paulus Diaconus, a monk of Monte
Cassino, a literary leader in his day, and a friend of Charle-
magne. Writing in the early part of the ninth century, he
says incidentally : ' And the Gallegans, that were all turned
to belief in God by the preaching of St. James and his two
disciples, and that had turned afterwards to the sect of the
Moors, were baptized by the hands of Archbishop Turpin.'
Turpin had gone on a pilgrimage to Compostella with Charle-
magne, about the year 813. The great emperor brooked no
trifling in religious matters : those of the apostate Gallegans
' who would not be baptized he put to the sword, or into the
power of the christened.' We may imagine the tender
mercies of the folk into whose hands the impenitent wretches
were committed. All that concerns us now is that Paulus
speaks of ' St. James and his two disciples.'

Some particulars of the Apostle's work in Spain have been
handed down, interesting, though perhaps doubtful, unless
silence, which says nothing either way, be taken as sufficient
security. Thus we are told that St. James, not long after his
return from Damascus, whither he had gone to help the
Church in the persecution threatened by Saul of Tarsus,
besought the Blessed Virgin for her permission to preach the
Gospel in Spain. After a conference with St. Peter, consent
was given. He kissed her hand, and in due time set sail.
It is true, owing to the confusion which crops out ever and
anon between -the two disciples, this incident is also told of
St. James the Less. An old chronicle states that St. James
the Less was commissioned by St. Peter, acting under orders
from the Blessed Virgin, to attend to the interests of the
Church, especially in Spain. It may have been so, but
opinion is almost unanimously the other way. Besides this,
Spain would not want the Little James.

It is not certain where St. James the Great landed : some
say at Carthagena, and others at Tortosa ; but in the course
of his wanderings he reached Saragossa, where he spent his
days in expounding and his nights chiefly in prayer, and where
he was successful in converting eight pagans. Wearied by
his efforts, he fell asleep, during which sleep the Blessed
Virgin manifested herself to him, and bade him erect a chapel
on the spot. Other accounts say that he was not asleep,

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN

but one night being with some disciples just outside the walls
of the city, he saw a light and heard singing, and perceived
a multitude of angels bringing St. Mary on a throne from
Jerusalem in a great glory, and by her a wooden image of
her, and a column of jasper. It does not follow, because
Zeus threw down from heaven the image of Pallas for the
protection of Ilium, that the image of Artemis did not fall
in like manner at Ephesus, or that this image of the Blessed
Virgin was not miraculously conveyed to Saragossa. Nor
because there are pillars here and there in oriental lands,
said to be of celestial origin, set as centres round which wor-
shippers could gather, does it mean that this jasper pillar
was not brought as mysteriously to the same city. On reach-
ing St. James, the Blessed Virgin bade him build a temple
there, where, with her, his name should be adored. ' For,'
said she, ' this place is to be my house, my right inheritance
and possession. This image and column of mine shall be
the title and altar of the temple that you shall build/ So
the Apostle built the church, and the Blessed Mary often
came to service there, and in it were preserved the black
but comely figure of the Virgin's own self, and the jasper
pillar : and there in a chapel in the centre of the cathedral
they remain. Diego de Astorga, primate of Spain, on
August 17, 1720, excommunicated all persons who ques-
tioned this fact ; and Eisco, writing in 1775, holds ' its truth
to be established on such firm grounds that nothing now can
shake it.'

The pillar, ' La gloriosa Colonna,' is to-day one of the most
venerated objects in Spain ; and the descent of the Virgin,
with the little dark image, is still commemorated, October 12,
the day of Saragossa. Thousands and tens of thousands of
pilgrims resort to this shrine every year. Miracles are
common : as far back as 1200, Pope Innocent m. declared
that ' God alone can count the miracles which are here then
performed.' Ford reminds us that the most sacred repre-
sentations of the Virgin, and especially those carved by St.
Luke, are dark-coloured. Thus was kept in mind the effect
of the sun during the flight into Egypt.

This is one of the treasures and wonders of Spain, directly
due to St. James. But for his mission to Saragossa no such
visit of the Blessed Virgin had been made. However, St.
James did more for the city which in the legends is called
the ' Happy Other World,' and in which neither fruits nor
corn ever spoil, and where no reptile or serpent can ever

94 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

live. Not only did he build the Church of St. Mary of the
Pillar, but he also made Saragossa a bishopric, and conse-
crated as its first bishop a disciple named Athanasius, who
is supposed to have been a Greek born in Toledo, converted
at Jerusalem, and a companion of the Apostle on his voyage
to Spain. He also ordained another of his own disciples,
Theodore, and gave into his charge the sacred image and
pillar.

It will be remembered that Paulus Diaconus, already
quoted, speaks of St. James and his two disciples. Now
from early times the houses of Saragossa have been white-
washed on the outside, and Saragossa is therefore called the
White City. As a result, above it is a white light which can
be seen day and night, in fair weather and foul. There is
no doubt that this white light thrown up into the sky from
the whitewashed city had a part in the vision St. James saw
of the multitude of angels bringing the Blessed Virgin in
glory to Saragossa. The hagiologists could not attribute
so resplendent a sight to whitewash. Nor could the Moham-
medans, who also had something to say about this same
phenomenon. According to one of their twelfth-century
geographers, they claim that this reflection happens because
two virtuous men are buried in the city. One of these men
certainly, and the other probably, came into Spain, com-
panions of the conqueror Tarik, in the year in which Spain
was subdued by the Mussulmans. So that the Mohammedan
Apostle had also two friends, one of whom had the addi-
tional honour of having been one of the Companions of
the Prophet. We shall hear more of the two disciples of
St. James, and possibly make the Saragossa legend more
difficult.

Another legend, disputable only under pain of excom-
munication, declares that the Apostle, sailing round the coast
of Spain, landed at Mugia, a mournfully desolate little port
near Cape Finisterre, which was indeed the very end of the
world. Several stories are told of this voyage of the Apos-
tolus p&regrinus, one of the most curious being founded on
a relief at the village of Caldas de Reyes, which represents
the barque of St. James as guided by a figure half -girl, half-
swan. Some of the phases of the legends of this voyage
seem to have been founded on the wanderings of Jason, of
Ulysses, and of Aeneas, the voyages of Brendon and of
Maelduin, and possibly of Sindbad the Sailor. It is as difficult
to thread one's way through this labyrinth of myths as it is

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 95

to trace the Apostle's journey through Galicia. He is said
to have preached at San Martino de Duyo, a hamlet on the
hills near Mnisterre, a short distance from Mugia. Here the
Phoenicians used to worship the sun and moon, and here the
Romans built a town.

On this same Coast of Death, as the Galicians call this
wild, rocky, wreck-strewn shore, is an estuary within which
lies another small settlement, once Phoenician and then
Roman, Iria Mavia. This place is claimed to have been
St. James's headquarters during his mission in Galicia.
Here, again, he had a vision of the Blessed Virgin, who told
him to build a church on this spot, which she promised him
should remain for all time to sustain the true faith in Galicia.
St. James obeyed her command. It is disputed whether
this church, or the one built by St. James at Saragossa, or
the one St. Peter erected at Antartus or Tortosa, on the coast
of Syria opposite the Island of Cyprus, was the first in all
the world consecrated in honour of the Blessed Virgin. The
Dominican traveller known as Burchard of Mount Sion,
writing about 1280, says that the church at Tortosa was still
standing and that he had celebrated Mass therein, but
Saragossa seems to have best established its claim.

However, at Iria Mavia, whether actually built by the
Apostle or not, there had been a church from the earliest
days of Christianity in Galicia, and on the site of this primi-
tive structure now stands the Cathedral Church of Santa
Maria de Iria, or, as it was formerly called, the Colegiata de
Iria. Of the older building absolutely nothing has been
preserved ; but the present one is conjectured to have been
built in the sixth century. The bishopric is said to have
been founded by the Apostle ; at any rate, in the sixth
century Lucretius is known to have been the seventh bishop
of Iria, and his immediate successor was one named Andres.
In the cathedral several tombs of the ancient prelates remain,
and a long list of the bishops has been preserved. Some
scholars suppose that the name of the place, Iria Mavia,
indicates a Basque origin.

That St. James himself visited, first, Mugia, and later,
Iria Mavia, is not open to question. In the granite rocks
near the former place the prints of the Blessed Virgin's feet
are still shown. In that bleak, inhospitable region she came
to comfort and sustain her lonely and defenceless servant.
The stone on which she alighted is preserved in the Church
of Nuestra Senora de la Barca, a favourite pilgrim shrine at

96 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Mugia. Mr. Aubrey F. G. Bell, in his Spanish Galicia, says
that ' by the sea below the church are the hull and rudder
of the ship in which St. James came, now turned to stone.
The boat is a flat rock raised an inch or two from the rocky
surface of the shore and with no visible means of support.
At certain times it is seen to sway lightly. The sail is like-
wise preserved, also in stone, and people crawl beneath it,
kiss the ground, and perform other rites held to be a certain
cure for some diseases.'

There is some confusion as to this petrified ship. A travel-
ler, Nicholas of Popplan, who was there in 1484, says that
Nuestra Senora de la Barca herself was the rocking stone,
though how he could so identify her is not told : nor, indeed,
what he meant by the assertion. But he declares of the
stone: 'We could move it with our hand.' Other travellers
heard that the Virgin came over in this boat ; but they still
called it the ' Barca de St. Yago,' because the Apostle also
sailed across the sea in it. We shall find that Iria Flavia
has a stone of similar characteristics and with similar legends.
The weight of evidence, however, shows that St. James
landed at Mugia.

As to his life at Iria Flavia, Mrs. Gallichan asks : ' Are not
his pulpit and his couch to be seen still on the Monte San
Gregorio at Padron ? ' She might have mentioned, as Ford
did, the broken and perforated rocks which St. James pierced
with his staff in order to escape from the pursuing heathen.
Centuries later, two of these holes were discovered to have
healing virtues, and Ford tells us that over these sacred
crevasses devout pilgrims stretched their bodies, as earlier
in the exercises they had drunk of the stream which runs
from under the altar of the church.

Having established Christianity and founded a bishopric
in this little town of Iria Flavia, thereby making its sanctuary
second in importance, as time went on, only to Compostella,
St. James and his company wandered over the peninsula,
from city to city and town to town. The cost of such jour-
neys must have been considerable, and we have no intima-
tion as to the sources of supply ; but no doubt, whenever
necessary, the newly founded Christian societies saw the
evangelists on their way, and furnished hospitality or means
of livelihood. Such was the case with St. Paul. He probably
had means of his own, as we may suppose the sons of Zebedee
had, but there were occasions when he worked with his own
hands, and other instances when he became dependent on

ST. JAMES'S MISSION IN SPAIN 97

the beneficence of his converts. By the time, however, that
the Church in Spain appreciated St. James's part in the
evangelization of the country, the idea of a poor, dependent
missionary, once a hard-working fisherman, met with little
favour. We can picture him travelling in a style and with
an equipment and an assurance more like unto a mediaeval
prelate than an itinerant mendicant preacher. The day
came when mendicants abounded, and were used as means
of grace ; but they were not bishops, nor did they attract
the servility of the common people or the obsequiousness of
governors and judges. St. James may not have appreciated
it, yet at times he seems to have travelled with the ease and
honour of a prince. It should not, perhaps, be passed by
unnoticed that in one age the Church assumed, and made
much of the assumption, that Christ was brought up as a
carpenter, working at a trade for His daily bread ; in another,
the Church seems to have been half ashamed that such an
assumption had ever been entertained. Then she preferred
to think of Him as on a king's throne rather than at a work-
man's bench. Nor did the people of Spain care to recall
St. James as a fisherman, a toiler, a stranger without rank or
wealth or influence. To them he was a Galilean knight of
noble family.

And so St. James converted multitudes of people, built
many churches, and founded bishopric after bishopric. Once
in a while one hears of other saints, in later years, doing
wonders. Among these none is more famous than St.
Martin of Tours, the warrior-saint of France. He is associ-
ated at Compostella with St. James the Great, and scattered
over the Peninsula are many statues and shrines erected
to his memory. The convent dedicated to him at Compo-
stella is one of the largest in the country. He is especially
remembered in Spain, and indeed in almost every other
Christian land, for his dividing his cope or cape one cold
winter's day, in order to cover a half-naked beggar. The
part left was long preserved in a small chamber of the
cathedral at Tours ; and from it, the capa, we get the Late
Latin capella, and thence our modern word ' chapel.' A
building called a chapel is a reminder of the valiant St.
Martin, and of his act of charity. The Puritan immigrants
of North America, afraid of saints and of all things belonging
to them, changed the name of that spell of sunny weather
recurring in the early days of November from St. Martin's
Summer to the ' Indian Summer.' St. Martin still remains

G

98 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

dear to the hearts of the Spanish people. But after all, dili-
gent as he and other missionaries may have been in the
conversion of the country, they are but as stars in the radiance
of the full moon. St. James outshines the most brilliant of
them. He is the Apostle of Spain par excellence. Even
should the undisturbed and deathlike silence of four or more
centuries be found troublesome, no one can deny that to
this day the places remain. And the events fit so neatly
into them, and the people have accepted the facts alleged
so devotedly and practically, that he must be a courageous
adventurer who sets aside evidence so conclusive, and leaves
unheeded the awful ecclesiastical penalties that await the
unbeliever.

But on the other hand, the Golden Legend declares that
St. James profited but little in Spain. He converted only
nine disciples, of whom he left two there to continue the
work, and took the other seven with him and returned to
Judea. Be this as it may, having ended his mission in
Spain, exultant or disappointed, the Apostle returned to his
own country.

A stray legend says that he lived to an extreme old age,
more than a hundred years ; but this legend must refer to
St. James the Less, who, as we have maintained all along,
was not the Apostle to Spain. The one event, since the
dispersion of the disciples, of which history has aught to say
concerning St. James the Great, the brother of St. John, is
that he was put to death by Herod the king, presumably
about A.D. 44, and simply to please the Jews.

CHAPTER IX

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN

BEFORE we tell the story of the martyrdom, we shall speak
further of Spain, and of what St. James, or the men of whom
legend makes him the prototype, found there.

Of the political and social state of this new world much
has been already suggested. But of even greater importance
are the religious conditions ; and in this chapter I purpose
making some observations concerning religion and Chris-
tianity, the highest development and expression of religion,
which may apply to the subject generally, as well as particu-
larly to the men and country now under consideration. Nor
shall I keep closely to the age of which I am more especially
writing, but shall wander into any age in which similar
conditions exist. Possibly I shall repeat some things that
I have already said ; but this may not be found unprofitable,
and I trust will not prove irksome.

To say that Spain was religious is to affirm that in this
respect Spain did not differ from any other country. The
religion may have been crude or highly developed, but every
community of men has always had some spirit or form of it.
The aboriginal inhabitants of the new world which lay
between the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, in the aeons of
a past which time has removed far out of sight, undoubtedly
had their own idea and worship of God ; and the several
races which invaded their country and appropriated its lands
and treasures brought with them the religion peculiar to
themselves : each, its own. Naturally so, for religion was
an integral part of their very nature. No people could
separate itself from its religion, any more than it could strip
itself of any characteristic essential to its being. Eeligion
is not an acquired quality. We cannot reason ourselves
either into it or out of it. We may develop it, and, as we
advance in civilization, make it express itself correspondingly,
in form more beautiful, more comprehensive, more benevo-
lent. Born with a tendency, which tendency as speedily as
possible even as other qualities, physical and mental, grow

99

100 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and develop advanced into a consciousness of God, man has
ever sought to get to that God. That instinct, drift, impulse,
is religion, the virtue which would discover and strengthen
the relationship which binds man and God together. Thus
man seeks to find out God, and endeavours to make a defini-
tion of God which may enable him to describe to others and
to picture to himself that Being of whose existence and
activity he has no more doubt than of his own.

Now man can only think of God by comparisons drawn
from himself or from the objects of nature around him. He
cannot reason from God downward : it must ever be from
the lower upward. It follows, therefore, that from what he
is himself he imagines God to be. If he be a man of force
and strength, or of justice and steadfastness, or of sympathy
and love, or of sternness and revenge, so he will attribute
these qualities to God. In the storm and the sea he heard
voices of majesty and mystery which he could interpret only
as of God. The clouds of morning and of evening had a
glory which could only be God's glory, and the rippling
radiance of light on lake or river, the aurora that spanned
the northern sky or the bow that displayed its exquisite
colours against the rain, suggested to him beauty that could
not be of earth. And so each of the various races of mankind
had its own ideal of God, and that ideal worked out its own
individual expression ; and while the several ideals, and
expressions of ideals, differed one from another, sometimes
widely, and some were extremely poor and vague, they all
converged to a common centre, the universal consciousness
of the existence of Deity. The form religion assumes may be
indeed almost endless in variety ; but religion itself that
primal consciousness and assurance of God, and of human
need of Him and responsibility to Him remains ever a
component and inseparable part of man's nature. It may
be obscured, and its strength weakened, but it never dies.

In this sense of the term, races never divide or quarrel on
religion itself. They differ only on the definitions, forms,
practices which each of them has developed for itself, accord-
ing to its respective characteristics. These definitions,
forms, and practices they come to call ' religion,' perhaps to
think of as religion itself ; and generally this is what we mean
when we speak of religion and the many kinds of religion
not the substance, which can be but one, but the conglomera-
tion of accidents which have grown out of it and cluster
about it. According to the tenacity with which these defini-

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 101

tions, forms, and practices are held, is the intolerance and
hatred frequently manifested towards all ideas or customs
that conflict with them. They are forced up from the second-
ary and accidental into equality with the essential. This
intense opposition may lead to conflict. Forces that do not
agree may set themselves in battle array. Each side is
confident of its own accuracy and satisfied of the error of its
opponent. In such cases, particularly in those far-away days
of which we are speaking, compromise was out of the question :
only surrender or death could settle the matter. As one side
knew that it was in the right, it was also sure that God was
with it. The other side may have made the same claim to
God's favour ; but he was a false god, perhaps an evil demon,
perhaps merely a fancy. All the more reason, then, that he
should be vanquished and his votaries rescued or destroyed.
Thus the Hebrews had no pity for the Canaanites.

The races grew into nations, and nations into empires.
Civilization developed powers in the individual and in society
of which primeval man knew nothing. Poetry and art
united with law and commerce, and with wealth and con-
quest, in shaping and expressing ideas which made the
world more than ever worth living in. The Babylonian
and the Egyptian builders raised temples marvellous in
magnitude and splendour ; while poets told stories of the
gods, minstrels and choirs sang and danced their praises,
and priests burned incense and made incantations in their
worship. So with other kingdoms and empires. And each
took beyond the seas or the mountains its own religion, as
it had developed it and practised it. When their voyagers
or emigrants set out for strange lands to found new colonies
and to make for themselves new homes, they went with a
seriousness of purpose and deportment, a consecration to God,
a devotion to the principles they professed, and a desire to
do the best thing possible for themselves even should
it be at the expense of natives and others already there,
equal to the like qualities in the Northmen who invaded
Britain or France, or the men and women who sailed in the
Mayflower for North America. At all events, they and their
religion, whatever it was or whatever there was of it, went
together. And in each religion, no matter where it was,
development went on. No religion is ever still. Every
generation of its adherents adds something to it, or takes
something from it. The religion of the early Greeks was not
quite the same as the religion of the age of Pericles ; nor

102 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

was that of Joshua one with that of Isaiah. Judas Maccabeus
may have spoken of Abraham as his spiritual ancestor, but
Abraham would not have known his own offspring. Should
a religion become static, it would die.

Nor, in the proper sense of the word, are there any new
religions. A new religion, springing up of itself, or origin-
ating in forces incongruous with it, is impossible. You may
speak of a new man, but man is not new. A religion may
grow and develop, but it cannot be a new creation. Chris-
tianity, for instance, is not new. It is a normal and natural
growth out of earlier conditions. Christ brought life and
immortality to light, but He did not create them. He taught
men the fatherhood of God, but in this He did no more than
Hebrew prophets and psalmists had done. The still more
ancient Babylonian seers had insisted upon the same father-
hood, with its tenderness, care, and love. He spoke of sin :
but none ever spoke more clearly of such, and of the necessity
of atonement, of getting rid of it and into peace with God,
than did these same Babylonians. He gave visions of the
life beyond death, and told of the way to get there : but the
people beside the Nile lived and died in the same hope. Out
of material already existing Moses shaped the law and wor-
ship of Israel. He developed, but he made nothing new.
And we may be sure that even Egypt, old in millenniums as it
is, found its religion growing out of still older systems. All
down the ages, through the thousands or the hundreds of
thousands of years in which man has lived on the earth,
religion has been evolving itself, passing from one stage to
another, expressing itself in varied forms, but never appearing
as a new thing.

And using the secondary and popular sense of the term,
though contemporary and contiguous religions may be
unfriendly to each other, yet, in spite of resolutions hardening
into determinations, unconsciously they borrow one from
another. In the one direction, this is even more evident
with religions of succeeding generations : a development, for
instance, following an earlier development. The newcomer
is apt to appropriate to itself anything from the old and long-
established system that suits its purpose. Thus all religions
become to an appreciable extent eclectic. None are really
pure and original, any more than a given race is pure and
original. The Jew was scarcely less so than any other people,
either physically or religiously. In spite of his efforts to the
contrary, intermarriages were not uncommon ; and none can

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 103

doubt that Persian thought influenced Jewish theology, as
later Greek philosophy affected Christianity.

There are some things that all religions have in common,
and usually these things will suit one religion as well as
another. For instance, all religions are given to symbolism.
The Hebrew, indeed, condemned the making of images of
the Deity, perhaps from a conviction that no symbol could
be worthy of Him or adequate to the purpose, and perhaps
from a fear that the image might in time be taken as the
reality itself. Thus the worship of the idol endangered the
worship of God. The symbol might be substituted for the
Deity symbolized. But it is doubtful if this prohibition may
be referred back to the time of Moses : for there were
teraphim in David's house, and the worship of the brazen
serpent continued in Jerusalem down to Hezekiah's time.
Nor, had the Israelites heard the command said to have
been given amid the thunderings and lightnings of Mount
Sinai, would they have been likely to have made a golden
calf as a symbol of Jehovah. On the other hand, the devout
pagan may have felt himself in peril of forgetting and losing
the conception or revelation of God which he had gained.
Just as the poet would preserve his dream of compassion or
loveliness in language, and the artist in lines and colours
his vision of beauty, so would he formulate in figure or image
the God of whom he had won but a glimpse. For such
formulations the Jew, the Christian, and the Mohammedan
had no use.

But all religions needed buildings or enclosures : temples,
sanctuaries, shrines, altars. Worship was common to all,
and, sooner or later, even to the present day, in every form
of religion, worship becomes ornate and dramatic. Nor can
music or sculpture or decoration or distinctive dress be kept
out. Bells are almost necessary adjuncts of worship. The
attempt to abolish form or ceremony leads only to other
form and other ceremony. The Puritan, who manages to
find a place in all religions under heaven, in due time develops
either into the tyrant or into the ritualist, who also holds his
own in all religions, whether fetish, or pagan, or Jewish, or
Christian. So with memorials and relics. The parish that
preserves the chair, or the book, or the chalice, or the roba of
a beloved and fondly-remembered pastor is not only carrying
out a natural instinct, but is also doing no more than the
Carthaginian who built a pillar, or the mediaevalist who made
a shrine and placed therein some article associated with an

104 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

honoured leader as dear to them as that pastor. No one
objects to the preservation in ornament of hair once belonging
to a friend ; but few realize that this is doing what the
ancients did with other parts of the body of their lamented
dead. Religion and human nature may change in expres-
sion, but in spirit they remain much the same.

With the exception, then, of making images of God, all
religions indulged in these practices. They symbolized or
personified virtues, qualities, or principles. The outcome
was of diverse degrees of excellence or appropriateness.
Some figures seem to have been designed to attract and
please, others to repel. The Greek Aphrodite and the
Ephesian Artemis appealed to minds widely differing from
each other ; and they who find charm in the placid, smiling
countenance of Buddha would discover no winsomeness in
the hideous diablerie depicted by Sudanese negroes. Some
worshippers fear God and some love Him ; and they picture
Him accordingly. So, too, though the image is itself a crea-
tion, yet it reacts on its creator, and perpetuates the thing
it signifies in those who behold it. The fairy story as told
by those who love grace and beauty has an opposite effect
on the mind of a child to the ghost story, morbid and
dismal, and apt to terrify, distress, and bewilder. Greek
naturalism or Persian theology produces character of nearly
opposite quality. Even the term ' cemetery ' suggests a
conception of death not the same as that indicated by
' God's acre ' or ' churchyard ' ; and a cross over a grave
tells of a hope that is beyond the power of a broken column.

Now races, or parts of races, pass from one land to another
or die out, but, sometimes quite definitely and abundantly,
they leave behind them visible and tangible evidences of
their religion : more particularly their buildings, sculptures,
altars, and images. The people which follows any one of
them possibly knows little of its history or its customs. It
has its own phase of religion, and would despise and repudiate
a former and foreign cult should it chance to discover it.
But without loss of self-respect and without imperilling the
rights and claims of Deity, it can appropriate temples, altars,
images, and the like. It matters nothing what the thing
adopted was originally intended to express, so long as it fits
the purpose of its appropriators. The symbol can be made
to stand for a principle or an idea far away from that thought
of by its devis rs, but just as good and true. It is not to be
supposed that should the most extreme Protestant sect

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 105

obtain the power, it would destroy St. Peter's Basilica,
or that, should Rome get England within its grasp, it
would pull down St. Paul's Cathedral. A cross from a
Roman altar would serve quite as well for an Anglican or a
Lutheran altar. When, then, a Greek colony in Spain over-
ran a Phoenician colony, there might indeed be some icono-
clasm, but there would be much more adaptation. So with
the Latin invader : or the Christian, or the Visigoth, or the
Mohammedan. None of them would demolish a house or
an ornament, a garden or a statue, simply because they had
belonged to some one else. And most likely, if no use for
such was on hand, a use would soon be found, even if it had
to be invented. The heathen in the North may never have
heard of Apollo, but the image of Apollo would serve well
as an image of Baldur ; and in turn either could be made to
depict the youth, vitality, grace, and kindness of the Good
Shepherd.

By the time that St. James went to Spain, that country
was fairly bestrewn with the remains, the debris, let us say,
of former religions : that of the primitive races, now driven
into remote recesses in the mountains or by the sea ; that
of the Phoenician and the Carthaginian, the Greek and the
Roman, and even that of Jewish colonists and traders.
And as it rarely happens that a conquered race is entirely
deported or driven out, in other words, shaved from off the
face of the earth, the remnants left, though reduced to
slavery, and made to bow themselves to the ground in
belittling and degrading toil, yet in time affect the ideas
and habits of their masters. Slowly and unconsciously
their own ideas and habits permeate, like some subtile
aroma or gas, here, there, and everywhere. And this drifting
influence tends to modify ideas and habits once dominant.
So that the Phoenician and Carthaginian in Spain becomes
more complex and less pure, more indefinite and less posi-
tive. Elements have crept into his religion which have made
it somewhat different from that of his fathers. The Jew in
Toledo was not the same as the Jew in Jerusalem, and differed
still more from the Jew in Babylon. All of which goes to
illustrate the fact that every form or phase of religion is
more or less eclectic. A truth will absorb a like truth, and
a soul seeking to express itself will lay hold on any colour,
line, word, suggestion, no matter what its origin, that will
further its determination.

St. James did not find Spain an irreligious country. On

106 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

the contrary, it had its lords and its gods many. Probably,
as in similar new worlds, among their votaries there existed
an easy, good-natured toleration one of another. Some
people, indeed, retain an unflinching zeal and unchanging
bigotry, but in a mixed community the trader and the
immigrant are apt to regard all religions as pretty much alike.
Of course a man likes his own best, but he has little to say
against the other. It turns on what the individual prefers.
I am afraid that this spirit of toleration and generosity is
more an evidence of death than of life. I doubt if any
religion which is alive is ever tolerant or generous. Rome
at this time was fairly both. Any people or race within the
empire, would it give homage to the emperor as the supreme
authority in the State, could practise any religion it chose.
But then the Roman idea or conception of religion was now
practically dead. Its temples and oracles were indeed still
popular, and its ritual as gorgeous as ever ; but for all that,
the hand of death had closed upon it. Christianity came,
young, fresh, vigorous, its heart throbbing and beating with
energy, its mind teeming with mighty ideas of freedom from
sin, of peace, of development, of life after death, and its
purpose, awful in its very intensity, to win the world for
Christ ; and except in theory, Christianity knew nothing of
toleration or generosity. It could not be lukewarm towards
principles and practices that contradicted its own, or in-
different to men who set themselves against its purpose.
And Christianity came into Spain aggressively bent and
disturbingly determined.

In this Christianity is not unique. It followed the law of
all new expressions of religion. Earlier, Hebraism had the
same spirit ; later, Mohammedanism. Neither shrank from
the use of the sword. Early Christianity had no sword ; but,
human nature being too strong for any altruism not immedi-
ately to its advantage, when the day of the sword came,
Christianity used it. I imagine that Crusader and Saracen
differed not in singleness of purpose, zeal, and intolerance.

There were two ways by which Christianity could hasten
and secure its progress. One, by direct conquest, the
other, by absorption and assimilation. By the former,
especially in the early ages, the means used were persuasion,
argument, example, and the like ; and by the latter, the
taking into itself and making part of itself whatever beauty,
truth, or strength it found in the system it would
displace.

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 107

Christianity may not have had any doctrine or fact to
present that in some form or other had not already been
known to man. Rather it brought out into deeper relief the
ancient and persistent truths, which had become distorted,
misinterpreted, perhaps lost sight of. And this it did by
making known to the world a Personality, and causing the
world to see in and through that Personality a light that
should help man better to understand himself, and to pene-
trate the mysteries which through the ages had baffled him.
This Personality was the Light of the world : the Sun that
should make clear the truths hidden in darkness. Himself
a man, He knew and understood man ; also God, He could
lift up man into that sphere or condition for which man had
long been yearning and striving. Man was not merely the
image of God, the. shadow and outline of Deity, but man
could be absorbed into God. The Incarnation set forth the
true relationship of God and man. In far-away days, man
had prayed to the Deity to take him by the hand, as in the
Egyptian penitential psalms. Now God had so taken him,
and through Christ Jesus, the Mediator between God and
man, the Door through which man might enter the knowledge
and happiness for which he craved, the Hand that held man
in mighty, loving, and unfailing grasp through Him, I say,
God translated the human into the divine, and, without
destroying his personality, made the child one with the
Father. This meant a new man in Christ Jesus, master of
himself, pure, a king among the things of earth, trampling
under foot the evils and sorrows that capture and sting and
kill, and immortal, even as is Christ. An ideal ! But none
the less true because an ideal.

It was this all-powerful and resplendent Personality, never
less a man or more a God than on the Cross, that Christian-
ity proclaimed to the world prefigured and foreshadowed,
it may have been, in such as Osiris or Gautama, but, unlike
them, the consummation in Himself of life and love and
eternity. The ancients had seen and rejoiced in the flash
and glow of coming dawn, the red and gold rays that shot
up into the night sky and gave earth an entrancing beauty
and a cheering hope ; but now the Sun Himself had risen.
In His glory all other glories faded away. Man, who had
always striven to be more than he found himself to be, now
saw Man in the fullness of His splendour, the most splendid
Being ever created. He now also saw in this Anointed One
that man after all was really made in the image of the

108 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Creator : of the very nature of God more wonderful than
poet could imagine or imagination conceive.

In this Personality, this Son of Mary and Son of God, the
early Christians saw no incongruities or difficulties such as
beset man when he began to define and describe not after
the spirit of the poet, but of the philosopher. The world
was familiar with the ideas of Virgin Birth and of Resurrec-
tion. People divided on their possibility there have always
been some who could not accept the exceptional or super-
natural ; but when they who were capable of seeing saw the
Christ so transcendently beautiful and completely satisfying,
these ideas became facts as a matter of course. The ideas
ran against human conceptions of nature ; but here was the
veritable Lord and Maker of nature. To Him nothing was
impossible. As to testimony concerning the facts alleged,
had they not Him Himself ? The early Church never
thought of a dead or of a merely historical Christ : a Christ
to be certified to by books or manuscripts ; but always of
a living, active, ever-present Christ. He was with them,
and the outcome of His work was there at hand.

So St. James and his fellows came to Spain, not to talk of
a Teacher who had given the world some most helpful
doctrines, and was now dead and gone, but to herald and
reveal a Christ present in the very country in which the
people lived, and able to lift them up and make them chil-
dren of God. In this Christ they gave a higher ideal of
immortality. It is said that the desire to enjoy life and, if
possible, to prolong the enjoyment of it indefinitely, is the
origin of the conception of immortality. The missionaries
of the Gospel did not teach anything of the sort. Nor did
they countenance for a moment the supposition once preva-
lent that elements such as gold, pearls, precious stones, and
certain shells conferred immortality. Probably they had
never heard of the Isles of the Blessed, where gold and
precious stones abounded, and in which men would search
for treasure not so much for the sake of wealth, as to obtain
immortality. Rather than this, the Apostle sought to point
the people to that God who only hath immortality, inherent,
and to that Christ whom to know is life eternal, and who
alone can impart the power of an endless life. This was,
perhaps, the greatest of the great truths that man desired to
ascertain. Whether immortality was his by impartation or
by nature, he longed to live, to know that his dead ones were
still alive, and to realize that life was worth having, not for

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 109

its opportunity of enjoyment, but for its own sake. This
Christ came to give life, and to give it more abundantly.
In this way, by their faithful preaching of Christ and of the
hope of glory, the disciples set out to win the world. Thus
the Cross was lifted up on the hills of Spain !

No religion, however, can establish itself or make progress
without organization. Like the religion itself, this organiza-
tion will depend upon the mental and spiritual condition of
its adherents. In barbarous ages, after the fashion of civil
institutions, it will be vague, crude, imperfect, extravagant,
distorted ; but as civilization advances it will become corre-
spondingly firm, definite, elaborate, conservative, solidified,
powerful. In this respect Christianity could not be unlike
other forms of religion. Almost of a necessity, a King
implied a Kingdom. And that Kingdom would shape itself
largely according to the conditions of the age in which it is
developed. He who seeks for anything approaching a re-
publican form of Church government in times when the
civil government is imperialistic will be disappointed. The
society which grew around Christ, or around the teachings
of Christ, was bound to shape itself according to the ideals
of its age. Christ Himself is the King. His power and
authority are conceived to be absolute. He has His officers
to carry out His will. Bishops become His proconsuls.
Provinces change into dioceses, and secular dioceses into
spiritual sees. The clergy are leaders in His army, and the
multitudes adhering to Him receive from Him citizenship,
and the rights and privileges which belong to such. All
power comes from Him : none from the people. He gives
to whom He will the keys of the Kingdom, and the juris-
diction they exercise conforms to the nature of their office.
Thus Christianity is set before the world in visible form.
The Church stands out as its embodiment. No priesthood,
either in Israel or in Egypt, Assyria or Greece, was ever more
compact, more insistent on unity, more determined in pur-
pose, or more efficient in extension. It claimed for itself
divine origin. It was of God and ordained by God. It
advanced to the first place, and soon seized the supreme
place among the organizations of men. The glory of Caesar
dimmed before the glory of Christ. Above the precepts of
ordinary law stood conscience, and conscience soon came to
mean conformity to the will of the Church. I do not say that
in any one age this theory reached its realization, or that it
was intended by Providence to serve for all time. I only

110 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

hold that in the ages in which Spain was being Christianized
the theory prevailed more or less, and that it was efficient
for its purpose.

And the Church, like the phase of religion which it cherished
and maintained, was eclectic to the utmost of its .power.
Its gates were ever open, not only to the convert, but also to
the ideas, opinions, and practices the convert brought with
him. No conversion could entirely strip him of the effects
of his former life. St. Paul himself brought his Hebrewism
into Christianity. Under his teaching Christianity appropri-
ated to itself all that was worth saving out of the old system.
Jewish heroes were regarded as antetypes of Christ : the
Psalms, the Prophets, even the Song of Songs, were inter-
preted as speaking of Him. Christianity came to look upon
itself as truly Israel ; the Israel that remained outside the
Church, having been false to the ancient ideals, had forfeited
its right to be considered as continuing the old. The per-
secution of the Jews which broke out almost as soon as the
Church had power was justified by the assumption that the
Jews, in rejecting Christ, had made themselves aliens and
traitors, worse than pagans, because they had thrown aside
the Truth which the pagan never knew. Thus St. Paul led
the way to an absorption which enabled the convert to
Christianity to think of himself as spiritually, and therefore
really, a son of faithful Abraham. The most casual reader
of the Gospels and of the Pauline Epistles can scarcely help
discerning a difference in the religion presented in the former
and that presented in the latter. All for the bettering and
enrichment of Christianity, no doubt : for had there been
no development or adaptation, Christianity would have died
as soon as born.

So with other converts. They brought their belongings
with them. If the ' belongings ' could be assimilated, Chris-
tianity had no more difficulty with them than the Church
had with the men and women themselves. It is true that
converts to new creeds are the more fervent oftentimes
because they fear their old faiths ; but to an extent we may
not fully appreciate the convert finds that he does not have
to relinquish so much as he has to substitute. Once he
burnt incense and sang and danced before the image of
Dionysus : he still burns incense and sings and dances
before the altar of Christ. He has changed Dionysus into
Christ : a Lord, to be sure, more beautiful, more helpful,
more worthy of love and adoration than Dionysus could

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 111

possibly be. Thus, through the Church's ever open doors,
came in pagan customs, practices, and ideals, partly because
the incoming multitudes could not wholly sever themselves
from them, and partly because the Church discovered that
some of them, at any rate, could be adapted to the new life
and absorbed into the new religion. More than this, sym-
bolically if not literally, many of these qualities thus brought
in were in themselves true and beautiful, and all things true
and beautiful were loved by God and sought for by Christ.

Some people have deplored this so-called paganizing of
Christianity, just as others have endeavoured to disparage
the contributions of Mithraism to Christianity. They have
argued that accretions and absorptions such as these destroy
Christianity ; as if things distasteful brought out into the
sunshine could affect the sun ! But if Christianity is the
home of truth, all truth must be welcomed into Christianity ;
and God, who has never left Himself without witness in any
age or country, is as truly the God of the heathen as of the
Jew or Christian. To me the very eclecticism of the Church
is one of its chief glories ; and a religious system that does
not despise the cherished practices and ideas of other reli-
gious systems, but seeks to take them in and give them
better meanings, and applies them to nobler purposes, seems
to me near to what I conceive God would have it be, and
indeed displays what He Himself has done and is all the time
doing.

At all events, the early propagators of the Faith in Spain
found there an abundance of material, and as time went on
they appropriated, now perhaps ignorantly, and now perhaps
knowingly, whatever they felt was attractive or would be
useful. Certainly they did not try to break the people entirely
from their past. We have already spoken of images and
columns. Such were scattered freely in countries where
Orientalism prevailed, and were carried by Phoenician and
Carthaginian into Spain. In time their original significance
was forgotten, but they remained ; and new meanings were
made for them. As none knew whence they came or what
they were for, it was easy to suppose they were supernatural,
if not divine. Images no longer represented pagan goddesses
now practically forgotten, but stood, sometimes for Christian
saints, but more frequently for the Blessed Virgin, who
before many generations passed by unconsciously and un-
noticed took their place, and became the personification of
womanhood, of the purest ideals of virginity and mother-

112 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

hood, and thus through the after ages exalted and sanctified
the family relationship. Indeed, from the beginning that
relationship enabled man the better to appreciate his con-
nection with the divine. Thus the Blessed Virgin became,
at least figuratively, the intervening element, the Mediatrix,
between God and man. What wonder, then, that repre-
sentations of Artemis, or even of Venus Verticordia, or any
of the numerous goddesses held in honour in the heathen
world, should come to be taken as figures of the Virgin,
blessed above all other women, in being made the Mother
of God and the means of the Incarnation.

But while development and eclecticism were necessary
qualities of Christianity, it must be remembered that both
qualities are possible of evil. They may go to excesses that
are not merely dangerous, but deadly. The additions may
be so many, and some of them so foreign and alien, as to
imperil and even corrupt the life and purposes of Christianity.
All human institutions, religious or otherwise, a,re subject to
this possibility. Clipping and pruning then become neces-
sary. The tree must be trimmed of branches that hinder its
growth. No society, be it never so pure in its origin or noble
in its purpose, but by the very generosity of its growth can
avoid the need and recurrence of reformation. Even the
Church, at least in its human elements, comes under the
same law. Corruptions are bound to get in, and, no matter
what the pain or cost, corruptions must be cut out. More-
over, things at one time good in themselves wear out, and no
longer serve any salutary purpose. After all, reformation is
a sign of life. Purification is the response to a demand which
unless responded to involves death. History has shown this
again and again. The great religions all passed through the
operation : Paganism in Egypt, Babylonia, India, China,
Greece, and Rome, no less than Judaism and Christianity.
There must needs be a going back to first principles : excision
as well as development, rejection as well as absorption.

How far Spain appropriated the material left so abundantly
by earlier religions without imperilling the original deposit of
Christianity is not for us to say. This, however, is fairly
certain, that no matter how unrestrained her adaptations
may have been, she never lost sight of the supremacy of the
Personality of Christ. He remained King even amidst the
stupendous changes which took place in the evolution of
ages. The exaltation of the saint meant a still more glorious
exaltation of the Lord of the saints. His grace was under-

WHAT ST. JAMES FOUND IN SPAIN 113

stood to run through and vivify and open out the lives that
Spain considered holy. Their virtues depended on Him.
They shone as stars in the firmament, but He made the
firmament, and the stars also ; and the magnificence radiated
from Him.

Thus the grace and splendour of the most wonderful of
cathedrals, the inspiration, vision, and skill of the men that
built them, came out of the belief that on high altar was
enthroned in mystery and sacrament the King Himself. All
the glory was for His glory.

CHAPTER X

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE

OF the martyrdom of St. James the Great, the canonical
Scriptures record only this : ' Herod the king stretched forth
his hand to vex certain of the Church. And he killed James
the brother of John with the sword. And because he saw it
pleased the Jews, he proceeded further to take Peter also.'
The narrative implies execution by decapitation rather than
by assassination, evidently done in public, to the satisfaction
of the Jews. It further suggests the prominence of St.
James, but no intimation is given of the Apostle's mission
to Spain, which might have caused that prominence. In
fact, all that we can gather from the Book of the Acts of
the Apostles is that James was regarded by the king, who
sought only to please the people, as worthy of death.

He was the first of the Apostles thus to die.

That nothing was made of this fact may be due to the
feeling that martyrdom was no extraordinary thing, but, on
the contrary, was to be expected and welcomed by those
who would walk in the footsteps of Christ. Neither St. Luke,
who is supposed to have written the record, nor St. Paul,
who in his epistles mentioned other events which happened
to the Church about the time of his conversion, makes the
slightest allusion to anything peculiar in the death of St.
James. He was killed with the sword. That is all.

But in the fourth book of the Apostolic History of Abdias,
written some centuries later, we find further interesting
information. Abdias is said to have been a disciple of St.
Simon and St. Jude, and by them he was made bishop of
Babylon in Persia. According to the story, Abdias wrote
his History in Hebrew; one of his followers, Eutropius,
translated it into Greek ; and in the third century, before
these versions perished, Sextus Julius Africanus, a Christian
traveller and historian, put it into Latin. ' Some have
greatness thrust upon them.' There is little doubt that the
Latin version of the Apostolic History, affirmed to have been
made by Julius Africanus, was compiled, perhaps in France,

114

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 115

in the sixth or seventh century. Abdias is held by competent
scholars to have no right to figure as its original authority
at all ; but, though found only in this comparatively late
treatise, there is a chance that the traditions attributed to
Abdias may have existed in his time. All, however, that is
perfectly clear is the attempt to make St. Simon and St.
Jude the chief and ultimate source of the information
declared to have been preserved by Abdias.

According to this History, which some scholars hold to be
little better than romance, St. James was a popular preacher
in Jerusalem. In his teaching he was opposed by two
magicians, Hermogenes and Philetus. It is not necessary to
suppose that St. Paul in his first epistle to Timothy, when
censuring Hermogenes for having deserted him and Philetus
for entertaining wrong ideas concerning the Resurrection,
referred to the magicians and converts of this legend.
Philetus was won over to the Church by St. James, and
immediately Hermogenes in anger bound him by magical
incantations, and exclaimed : ' We will see if James can free
you ! ' The victim of this atrocious spite managed to make
known his evil condition to St. James, and St. James sent
back his kerchief, and by it Philetus was freed and came
to him.

Hermogenes, however, was not to be outdone in this wise.
He despatched several demons, probably carefully selected
for their courage and skill, and bade them fetch both James
and Philetus to him. The demons went their way, but as
soon as they got into the presence of the Apostle they began
to howl in the air and complain that an angel had bound them
with fiery chains. St. James eased them of their pain, and
in turn sent them to bring Hermogenes bound to him. They
did so. The demons tied his arms with ropes, and mocked
him. They clamoured for leave to avenge themselves on
him, but James restrained them. ' You are a foolish man,'
said the Apostle, ' but they shall not hurt you.' Then,
addressing the demons, St. James said : ' Why do you not
seize Philetus ? ' They replied : * We dare not touch so much
as an ant in your chamber.' The Apostle had pity on the
wretched Hermogenes. He directed Philetus to release him.
Hermogenes stood confounded. ' Go free,' said the Apostle ;
* we do not render evil for evil.' ' I dare not,' he answered ;
' I fear the demons.' St. James gave him his staff to protect
him.

Armed with this, so runs the story, he went home and filled

116 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

baskets with magical books, and began to burn them. ' Not
so,' said James, ' lest the smoke vex the unwary ; but cast
them into the sea.' He did so, and returned and begged for
pardon. Of course he followed the example of his former
associate. St. James sent him to undo his former work on
those he had deceived, and spend in charity what he had
gained by his art. He obeyed, and we are told that ' he so
grew in faith that he even performed miracles.'

It is not to be supposed that the Apostle's arch-enemies,
the Jews, could allow an enterprise such as this to go on.
They bribed two centurions, Lysias and Theocritus, to arrest
him. The officers, whose names seem decidedly non-Roman,
led away the disturber of the peace. As they went, a dispute
broke out between him and the Pharisees, in which St. James
showed his knowledge of the Scriptures and proved his
eloquence. In response to his appeal, which seems to have
ended with the significant words, ' the earth opened and
swallowed up Dathan,' the people in their anguish of repent-
ance cried out, ' We have sinned ! We have sinned ! '

We can imagine the difficulty of the centurions. The
multitude took up the cause of the prisoner. Rescue seemed
within possibility. Why drag a man to trial who had done
nothing wrong, and had won the favour of the people ? ' The
officers faltered. But the Jews were equal to the occasion.
Abiathar, the high priest, came into the field. He stirred
up a tumult. The people swayed back again. A scribe cast
a rope about James's neck and pulled him along to Herod's
judgment-seat. Possibly there was some semblance of a
trial. Or the king may have feared the people. Pilate had
not been able to stand against the fury of a Jerusalem mob.
So he sentenced him to be beheaded.

On the way to the place of execution, St. James healed a
paralytic. The miracle, though it failed to procure the
release of the condemned man, or seriously to affect the crowd,
had at least one effect. The scribe, by name Josias, who had
thrown the rope round the Apostle's neck, was convinced of
the error of his ways and of the truth of Christianity. He
fell on his knees at the prisoner's feet and prayed for pardon.
The scene became dramatic. Abiathar, the high priest, who
evidently was not entirely without tender mercies, delayed
the procession and allowed water to be brought. The people
stood back, and in awe and silence beheld the solemn
ceremony. The Apostle thereupon baptized the converted
scribe. Abiathar was even more considerate. He so

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 117

wrought with, the higher powers that he succeeded in getting
permission that the scribe should be beheaded with James.
Accordingly, at the last, the two victims exchanged the kiss
of peace, and were put to death.

St. Clement of Alexandria, writing in the second or third
century, speaks of St. James as thus forgiving his accuser,
which seems to indicate that the scribe had been loud among
those who led the way to the death of St. James ; and which
also shows that the legend ascribed to Abdias has some
antiquity, and may have some foundation in fact.

We may reasonably suppose that the friends of St. James
were allowed to take away his body and give it suitable
burial. We are not told the place. Nor yet what became
of his head. It is said, and I think that St. Francis de
Xavier held to the legend, that at the moment of his execu-
tion the Apostle caught his head in his hand as it fell. I do
not fancy that the head was exposed publicly as 'heads were
at Temple Bar. Possibly the Apostle gave it himself to
some disciple standing by. What became of it is unknown ;
but when it was next heard of, after a fashion indulged in
rather freely by John the Baptist, it had duplicated itself.
One of the heads was found, with the rest of the body, at
Compostella, and the other at Braga, the third largest city
in Portugal. How they got to their respective destinations
has never been discovered. At both places the custodians
claimed to have the original head, and as the claims seem
never to have been adjusted, the element of uncertainty still
exists. The same legend tells us that the Jews were astonished
at the Apostle's dexterity in catching his head, but when they
touched the body they found it so cold that their hands and
arms were paralysed. Should the head not have been restored
to the body it would not have been exceptional. The body
of St. Andrew, for instance, brought over from Patras in
Greece, is at Amalfi in Italy, and his head is in St. Peter's
at Rome. But wherever the grave of St. James may have
been, nothing was heard of it for a matter of seven or eight
hundred years.

Then came to light legend upon legend, growing ever in
wonderful revelations, of what had happened to the body of
St. James before those distant centuries began. None of
these legends had been heard of till this late date, but they
described events as though they were contemporary with the
events. Of course the stories may have been continued from
generation to generation by word of mouth, and Spaniards

118 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

came to believe that such had been the case. Possibly ; only,
the hypothesis robs the eighth-century hagiologists of the
credit of ingenuity and imagination, and suggests injustice
to their many other gifts. The critic will have to judge for
himself. He may reach the conclusion that some foundation
may exist on which the astonishing and greatly admired
superstructure rests : in which conclusion he manifests hia
charity or his fancy, but which I am not able to say.

At all events, taking the legends at their assumed value,
and going back to the times they claim to describe, after
the martyrdom of an Apostle who had done so much for
Spain, we find either that the people of that country longed
to have his body as an everlasting memorial of him, or that
some of his disciples, converts from Spain brought by him
to Jerusalem, judged that the most suitable resting-place for
the Apostle of Spain was Spain itself.

The former conjecture appears to be far-fetched, for there
is no indication in any legend that his body was welcomed
by any church or company of Christian people. Perhaps it
was supposed by those who brought the body that its mere
presence there, or the miracles which would be performed at
the tomb, would hasten the complete conversion of the
country. If so, no use whatever seems to have been made of
the opportunity.

If not as early as this, yet within a few centuries, the
translation of the bodies of saints from one country to another
became far from uncommon. Ford reminds us, with un-
becoming merriment, that similar transportations occurred
in classical times, and he quotes Lucian, who tells us that
the head of Osiris was carried to Byblus by water, and
Herodotus, who records that the remains of Corobius were
transported by sea to Spain. Pausanias says that an image,
declared to be one of Hercules, was carried by a ship, con-
scious of its sacred cargo, from Tyre to Priene, and there
became an object of pilgrimage. So, according to the
Greeks, Cecrops sailed from Egypt in a boat of papyrus.
' But,' adds Ford, rather spitefully and yet convincingly,
* it would be mere pedantry to multiply instances from
pagan mythology, and for every one a parallel might be
found in papal practice in Spain.' I have no doubt ; but on
the other hand we ourselves observe many customs and hold
not a few beliefs which have their parallel in what some are
pleased to call ancient absurdities. That Charles the First
was beheaded in England and Louis the Sixteenth guillotined

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 119

in France is not disproved by the discovery that Belshazzar
the king of the Chaldeans was slain in conspiracy, or that
Eglon king of Moab was stabbed to death by Ehud the son
of Gera. Coincidences do happen, as everybody knows.
Moses was laid in a basket of bulrushes and set among the
flags beside the Nile, in time to be rescued by a princess and
brought up in all the learning of the Egyptians. So, in like
manner, Sargon the Accad, when a babe, was entrusted in
a basket to the waters of the Euphrates. The little ark was
caught by a snag at the foot of a garden. The gardener
saved the babe, and the babe grew up to be the Napoleon
of his age. The sime thing can occur again and again, and
I do not agree with Ford that a Christian miracle may be
ruled out simply because it resembles an older pagan wonder.

Besides all this, there is the undoubted translation of the
famous saint and martyr, Vincent of Tarragona, of whom I
have already spoken. His tomb is in one of the side-chapels
of the cathedral at Lisbon. There he was taken from
Valencia, the city where first he was buried. We are told
on good authority that ' a pair of ravens kept within the
cathedral precincts are pop^arly believed to be the same
birds, which, according to the legend, miraculously guided
the saint's vessel to the city.' St. Vincent is the patron
saint of Lisbon, and ' the armorial bearings of the city,
representing a ship and two ravens, commemorate the legend.'

In the history of these removals of saints, Dr. G. G.
Coulton, in his From St. Francis to Dante, reminds us that
St. Mary Magdalene is one of the most ubiquitous and elusive
in the whole calendar. I cannot turn aside from her adven-
tures. Coulton gives a pretty story told by Salimbene, the
famous Franciscan historian, of the finding of a body of the
Magdalene, ' whole save for one leg,' near Aix in Provence.
We know nothing of the way she got there. ' When this
body was found, her epitaph could scarce be read with a
crystal glass, for the antiquity of the writing.'

Salimbene was living in the neighbourhood when this body
was discovered, and he records a miracle which he feels
confirms the story. A contention arose between a young
butcher and an acquaintance concerning its truth. The
dispute grew into a fight. The undevout man who believed
not belaboured the devout man and dealt him many blows
of his sword. ' Yet he with the Magdalene's help took no
hurt. Then he who was devoted to the Magdalene smote
. the undevout man but once, and there needed no more ; for

120 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

he straightway lost his life and found his death.' The
champion of the Magdalene, fearful of the consequences,
fled, but was caught and condemned to be hanged. In the
night before his execution, as he lay awake in his cell, the
Magdalene appeared to him, and said : ' Fear not, my ser-
vant, defender and champion of mine honour, for thou shalt
not die ' ; and she made him a suitable admonition, which
comforted him not a little, as well it might. ' Next day,
when he was hanged on the gallows, yet his body felt neither
harm nor pain ; and suddenly, in the sight of all who had
come to see, there flew swiftly down from heaven a dove,
dazzling white as snow, and alighted on the gallows, and
loosed the knot round the neck of the hanged man, its own
devotee, and laid him on -the ground wholly unhurt.' Yet
in spite of this stupendous miracle, the officials would have
hanged him again, but the band of butchers present in large
numbers with swords and staves rescued their fellow-
guildsman. Then he told his story. The multitude was
satisfied, and praised God and the blessed Magdalene who
had freed him.

This body was found in the year 1283,' twelve centuries
and a half after her death. The fate of the young butcher's
antagonist shows that even in those ages of faith some there
were who did not believe all they heard. In this instance
happily so, for had not this sceptic been killed, this miracle
had not been performed. But this was not the only time
or place the Magdalene's body was discovered.

Vincent de Beauvais describes her translation from Aix to
Ve'zelay in A.D. 746 ; though at that early date some men
claimed that she was at Ephesus. In 898 her body was
reported to be at Constantinople : in 1146 it was beyond
doubt at V6zelay, and had been there for the previous four
hundred years. In 1254 St. Louis went and worshipped it
at Ste.-Baume, and again in 1267 the same king ' showed his
impartiality by assisting in state at the solemn translation of
the rival corpse of Ve'zelay. ' There is some confusion in these
statements which I cannotJiope to straighten out. Sinigalia
also claimed to have the body. But, as Salimbene declared,
- * it is manifest that the body of the same woman cannot be
in three places.' However, in 1281, Pope Martin iv. gave
to the cathedral of Sens a rib from the V6zelay corpse, and
declared in his accompanying Bull that this was the genuine
body. This did not settle the controversy. Two years later,
as attested by the miracles wrought on behalf of the believing

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 121

butcher, the body was found in the city of St. Maximin.
Pope Innocent in., who was apt to treat all .relics seriously,
decided in such matters of doubt that ' it is better to commit
all to God than to define rashly either way.' Where the
body of the wandering Magdalene is now, no one can with
safety even conjecture ; but Professor Kent says that in
Castile a shooting star is recognized as a departed soul,
bound on its long journey, and lest it go astray the poor
wandering soul is sped with a prayer, ' Dios te guia y la
Magdalena.'

That the body of St. James should be taken from Jerusalem
to Spain need therefore occasion no surprise. Fortunately
the legends describe, how it was done. As Mrs. Gallichan
reminds us, difficult facts can be explained away by legends :
' and that is one reason why they hold so much more romance
than history.' And romance would indeed be dead if it did
not grow. Thus, to quote the simplest record, as given by
the author just named : ' We learn that the disciples of the
Apostle, accompanied by an angel of God, took charge of the
holy body, which they bore by night to Joppa, where they
found ready prepared for them a miraculous ship, in which
they set sail, with favourable breezes and a calm sea, till, on
the seventh day, they came to the harbour of the river at
Iria, on the Galician coast.' <

Some say that two of his Spanish converts thus conveyed
his body to Joppa and thence to Spain. Others declare that
the Apostle embarked himself in a boat which by the favour
of God appeared to him at Joppa, and sailed alone for the
West. He reached Barcelona, and then passed along the
coast of Spain, through the straits into the Atlantic, and
northward till he landed at Iria. The voyage occupied seven
days a short time, all things considered.

Another story has it, that the remains of James the
Great are in the ancient church of St. Sernin or Saturnin
in Toulouse ; and the Catholic Encyclopaedia, in a praise-
worthy and determined effort to be just to all the legends,
says : ' It is not improbable that such sacred relics should
have been divided between two churches.' This does not
help matters much. If the remains were so divided, we still
have no means of knowing whether St. James left part of
himself on the coast of France, or whether part of him was
sent to Toulouse by the disciples who conveyed the rest of
him to Spain. It is of no consequence, for in later years the
claims of Toulouse were quieted for ever. Even the Catholic

122 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Encyclopaedia, notwithstanding its charity, goes against
Toulouse. It declares that ' a strong argument in favour of
the authenticity of the sacred relics of Compostella is the Bull
of Leo xm., " Omnipotens Deus," of November 1, 1884.' We
agree with the Encyclopaedia : the Bull is a ' strong argument,'
for without doubt his Holiness had probabilities, if not facts,
on which to establish his opinion. Moreover, the Congrega-
tion of Rites recommended and agreed to the decision. And
we are the more disposed to accept the decree of Leo xm.
because, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, in some
unaccountable way, owing to the destruction of the Spanish
Armada by the English in 1588, the body of the saint was
entirely lost. Possibly St. James felt discouraged at the
valour of an apostate nation or at the failure of his own
people, and therefore mysteriously withdrew himself from
sight. Nor was the body rediscovered for some years, and
then only by miracle. The evidence for this is given in the
Letters Apostolic just referred to. There is no further reason
to doubt, and we may take up the story of the voyage and
the landing and disposition of the body.

According to some accounts, the disciples took away from
Jerusalem the body of St. James by night for fear of the
Jews, ' and brought it into a ship, and committed unto the
will of our Lord the sepulture of it, and went withal into the
ship without sail or rudder. And by the conduct of the angel
of our Lord they arrived in Galicia.' So, whether naturally
or supernaturally, by angels or disciples or himself, the body
reached Iria Flavia, or, as the place afterwards came to be
called, El Padron.

On approaching their destination, the vpyagers beheld a
wonder of which after generations made use. ' They beheld
a man riding on the seashore, whose horse being restive,
plunged into the sea, and then walked on the crests of the
waves towards them. Suddenly, as they watched, both
horse and rider sank beneath the water ; but, after a brief
space, they again appeared, covered over with shells. The
shells were the convex bivalve, white inside. And the holy
scallop-shell thus became the emblem of St. James, being
formed by skilful craftsmen as talismans, which should guard
from all harm those who sought the Apostle's shrine.' We
shall hear more about these shells later on.

On getting to land, the body was taken out of the ship,
and rested near the waterside on a stone, which hollowed
itself out for the purpose, ' as it had been soft wax,'' thus

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 123

becoming a tomb or coffin. Soon afterwards, either of its
own volition and effort, or by the faithful disciples who some
say had brought it thither, or by a tide higher than usual,
or by devout though pagan fishermen who would show respect
to the unknown dead, especially when washed up by the sea,
the body was removed higher up on shore.

There is some diversity of story as to what was done with
the body after this. One legend has it that the disciples
went to the queen of that country, Lupa by name, who had
turned a deaf ear to the Apostle when, during his mission in
Spain, he had sought to convert her. They thus addressed
her : ' Our Lord Jesu Christ hath sent to thee the body of
His disciple, so that him that thou wouldest not receive
alive thou shalt receive dead ' ; and then they recited to her
the miracle by order, how they were come without any
governaile of the ship, and required of her place convenable
for his holy sepulture. Queen Lupa, who is not mentioned
elsewhere in history, was by no means an amiable creature.
Her name, we are told, was deserving of her life : * which is
as much to say in English as, a she-wolf.' She had no more
love for the missionary from Palestine than Jezebel had for
Elijah or Herodias for John the Baptist. So, making a
pretence of goodwill, she sent the two disciples to a right
cruel man, some say to the King of Spain, and he put them
in prison : no doubt intending to get them out of the way.

From prison, while their custodian was at dinner, the
angel of the Lord let them escape away all free. When the
right cruel man discovered this, he was filled with wrath
and sent knights after them. The knights essayed to cross
a bridge, but the bridge brake, and they fell in the water
and were drowned. The right cruel man had more grace
than Queen Lupa. He repented, and sending more soldiers
after the fugitives begged them to return. They did so, and
under the favour of the right cruel man, converted the people
of that city to the faith of God.

Then they betook themselves back to the queen, and told
her what had happened. The story made no impression.
The queen was by no means without further resources.
She bade the disciples go to the mountains and get some
oxen belonging to her, and draw up the body of their master.
The oxen were wild bulls, which she knew would never allow
themselves to be harnessed. In the fray she hoped the body
would be overthrown and the men killed. Guileless and
trustful, the disciples went to the mountain to get the so-

124 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

called oxen. On the way a dragon met them, spitting fire
at them ; but they made the sign of the cross, and the
dragon broke into two pieces. Then they made the sign of
the cross over the ferocious bulls, and anon they were as
meek as lambs, and were readily yoked to the waggon ;
and forthwith, being neither governed nor driven, they drew
the stone in which lay the body of St. James into the middle
of the queen's palace. No further effort was needed to over-
come the queen's obduracy. After seeing this wonder she
was converted, baptized, and delivered unto the disciples all
that they demanded, dedicated her palace into a church, and
in due time ended her life in good works.

The ending of this romance is most pleasing, though the
episode itself seems to have had no widespread effect on the
conversion of Spain. One particularly likes the story of the
dragon and the wild oxen. Neither Guy of Warwick nor
George of Cappadocia got rid of their reptilian adversaries so
easily ; nor would one have supposed that the domestication
of savage animals had been done no less expeditiously. These
illustrations we owe to St. James. Had not his disciples
taken his body to Spain, they had not encountered Queen
Lupa. More than that, in the writer of this tale, which we
may well believe was founded on facts accepted by him, we
have a precursor of the modern historical novelist. A long
way indeed from Sir Walter Scott, or Alexandre Dumas, or
even G. P. R. James, but doing the same kind of work, and
helping people to imagine the scenes and adventures of old
time. Men have been known to get all the history they
desire out of Henry the Fifth and Quentin Durward and Les
Trois Mousquetaires, and never ask a question as to the exact
veracity of any one of them. It was enough that the books
were written, and it is enough that we have the story of the
wicked but repentant Queen Lupa.

Leaving their royal convert, doubtless protected by her
and perhaps following her counsel, the disciples continued
their journey inland, and at last buried St. James in a fair
marble sepulchre, which they may have found disused, or
which a convert and his family might offer, as once Nicodemus
did so says the legend, the writer not being as familiar
with the Gospel narratives as he should have been.

Then the Visigoths and the Moors came ; the country
passed through upheavals, and all memory of the tomb was
lost.

Another tradition states that the disciples drew up the

THE MARTYRDOM AND THE VOYAGE 125

body from the shore, and deposited it in a cave or grotto
dedicated to Bacchus. A pagan deity thus became host to
a Christian apostle. This may be an exaggeration, for it is
hard to believe that the votaries of that jovial and scandal-
making god would set him down in a damp, dark cavern ;
or, on the other hand, that the men who loved St. James and
had served him so well would consider such a place as suitable
for so sacred a purpose. But the tradition became popular,
and both the grotto and the shells referred to above were
associated lastingly with St. James. In that dismal deposi-
tory, so men believed, the body of St. James remained,
hidden and forgotten, for nearly eight hundred years. No
one remembered how he was taken there. No one seems to
have thought of him at all. Perhaps the world at large
never surmised but that his body was still at Jerusalem, lost
among the dust and debris of the ages. Spain alone had the
treasure, of which she dreamed not, and the glory of which
was destined to make her famous among the nations.

We do not wonder that, after the body was recovered
those hundreds of years later, a notion prevailed that St.
James had been lonely in his grave, which had been made
in the wilds far out of the way. We can scarcely imagine
anything more lonesome, isolated, uncanny, dreary. It is
said that, when they died, the two disciples, who had remained
with him to the very last, were buried one on either side of
him, and, according to some stories, they were so found.
If the ideas of those times are trustworthy, this may have
been some comfort to him ; but better than such companion-
ship was an assurance given by God Himself : ' Don't mind :
for all men born have to come and visit you, and those who
do not come while they are alive will come after death.'
The procession did not begin for a long time, but it still
goes on. In the star dust of the Milky Way may be seen
the innumerable souls that are making the journey to
Santiago. The loneliness of St. James has gone by for ever !

It is possible that some readers will take these legends as
romance, if not as clear invention ; as we said just now, a sort
of novel-writing, like some much earlier Egyptian tales. But
the reader must not be carried away by opinions generated
in a sceptical and irreligious age. Suppose the legends do
seem far-fetched and fictitious, things are not always what
they seem ; and when these stories came to light, they were
accepted by plenty of believers. Even prelates and scholars
saw nothing in them incredible. More wonderful marvels

126 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

than these had happened. And what mattered a silence of
eight hundred years ? Did not such a silence enhance the
genius of those who could bridge it, and speak of the events
which lay beyond it as though they were of yesterday ?

And it should be remembered that in times gone by these
legends were not questioned or contradicted because they
were adjudged lacking in verity, or even in verisimilitude,
but because the claims built on them interfered with some
policy or theory. Thus Pope Gregory vn., in his attempt
to establish the suzerainty of the see of St. Peter over all
Christendom, began his reign in 1073 by affronting Castilian
prejudice with the statement that the kingdom of Spain,
though long occupied by the pagans, belonged to St. Peter
alone. He forgot St. James altogether, but St. James did
not forget the affront. Even as late as 1603, Pope Clement
VHL, jealous of the pretensions of the Spaniards as regards
the Apostle, made some alterations in the words of the
Breviary, casting doubts on the entire story of St. James's
coming to Spain. But history informs us the vigorous
remonstrances of Philip m. induced the Pope to modify
his criticisms, and twenty years later the saint was restored
by Urban vm. to his full ecclesiastical honours. Later
popes, as we have seen, testified, one even vigorously, to
the truth of the legends, though some had disliked their
application.

Thus we leave St. James sleeping his long sleep in a place
forgotten by everybody, and unknown to all the world, and
destined for centuries to be utterly unheard of, not a word
of the legends written till his body was discovered.

And the body was discovered just when it was needed.

CHAPTER XI
THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN

BEFOEE we take up the story of the discovery and transla-
tion of the body of St. James, we shall endeavour to empha-
size the significance and to give a brief and pertinent sketch,
or rather suggestion, of the ages of silence.

' Eight hundred years ' describes a long time, and in that
time many changes, some tremendous, if not fundamental,
are sure to happen. Perhaps we may easier realize this fact
if we consider it from our present point of view.

Looking back, then, from the twentieth century over ' the
eternal landscape of the past ' to the twelfth century,' we
behold, as we should expect, a world living, intense, active,
and real. In essentials it is not so different from the world
we know as to hinder us from recognizing it, but in endless
incidents, innumerable particulars, and many general features
it is so strange and unfamiliar that we think and speak of it
as having a development and being enshrouded in a mystery
to us foreign, beyond understanding and for us practically
impossible. The physical phenomena of the country remain
much the same : the mountains, rivers, plains, and cities.
The men and women differ not from us in nature, either in
spiritual or moral qualities or in mental capacity. They do
good things and bad things even as we. At times they
shock and perplex us, but not more so than we should shock
and perplex them could they but see us. Their virtues are
sometimes splendid and their crimes not infrequently enor-
mous, as ours would seem to them. They knew much that
we do not know, and we know much that they knew not.
Passion and ambition were the same in them as they are in
us. They were as human as we are human, notwithstanding
the variations in costume, habit, pursuit, speech, and outlook.

And yet it is indeed another world not really more
romantic and picturesque than our own, or less visionary or
grotesque, as we sometimes picture it ; but different ! We
have our wonderful men, demi-gods if you will : so had
they. And yet different ! Then was the age of crusades

127

128 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and knights and tournaments, of glistening armour and
feathered arrows, of trouveres and jongleurs and minne-
singers, and of architects such as they who built Durham,
Lincoln, Canterbury, Seville, Pisa, and Venice ; and kings
after the fashion of Frederick Barbarossa, Henry Plantagenet,
and Louis the Seventh ; and popes of the kind of Hilde-
brand and Innocent m. ; and scholars such as Abelard, ,
Maimonides, and St. Bernard a world mighty in vision and
achievement, with leaders in themselves still more mighty.
Then in the fullness of its power, with all its tyranny, gor-
geousness, and selfishness on the one hand, and helpfulness
on the other, feudalism flourished, or rather, perhaps, what
is indefinitely styled as such. Every man was some one
else's man, till the long series of obligations reached either
the emperor or the supreme pontiff, and which of them was
God's man remained for ever past finding out. Thomas of
Canterbury died rather than put his hands between the king's
hands. St. Anselm suffered banishment by refusing investi-
ture from the Red Bang. The political and social rights of
the people, as distinguished from those of princes, barons,
prelates, and other dignitaries of State or Church, had
scarcely been thought of, much less formulated ; neither had
Magna Charta been enacted, nor had the Forest Cantons so
much as dreamed of their famous League.
fa Eight hundred years since, notwithstanding the daring of
Mediterranean and Western voyager, the farther shores of
the Atlantic were unknown. America still awaited dis-
covery. No ship had rounded the Cape of Good Hope.
Men continued to think the world was flat, and the sun
journeyed under and over it. Puck might indeed put a
girdle round about the earth in forty minutes ; but there
were neither railways nor steamboats nor printing presses ;
and electrical inventions which have brought the ends of
the world together were still deep down in the depths of
thousands and tens of thousands of nights. Sanitation had
no place even in kings' palaces. Indeed, much as the
Mohammedan indulged in baths and inculcated cleanliness,
most Christian folk loved dirt, and left their bodies unwashed
and their pools of filth undrained. The more begrimed and
pediculous the saint, the more saint was he. Pestilence
stalked through town and village, destroying and killing
without let or hindrance, and the people burned herbs in
their houses and submitted themselves to Providence. They
thought much of the Cross and nothing of the shovel. Still

THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN 129

more did they attribute their misfortunes to God than
suspect their own shortcomings. In those days surgery and
medicine had scarcely begun to emerge from their primitive
rudeness, haphazard adventure, or mysterious magic.

But the arts were waking up from their long slumber, and
in the early, cheery dawn architecture caught the vision that
her greatest glory lay in forest arches and massive trees. A
century yet remained before poetry would display herself,
as she has only thrice displayed herself in the history of the
world, and Dante once and for all would lift the veil of the
Unseen, but literature had felt the early pulsations of her
revival : lyrics and ballads were heard in the land, and the
Nibelungenlied and the Arthurian legends were told in
castle hall and abbey garth by travelling minstrels. Morning
was coming indeed, but the day that should break would
show a world which the child of the twentieth century can
scarcely understand or appreciate.

The changes that happened in Spain in the eight hundred
years between the burial of St. James at Iria Flavia and the
discovery of his body in the beginning of the ninth century
were in many respects as numerous, significant, and far-
reaching as those which I have suggested as occurring in the
last eight hundred years. In the three or four centuries
between these two periods St. James attained to the splendour
and influence which made so great a contrast between the
fisherman of Galilee and the patron saint of Spain an
ascension out of twilight into meridian glory.

At the time when St. James was laid in the darkness of
the grotto at Iria, Spain was still part of the empire, and
remained such till in the fourth century the Visigoth came.
Theodosius, the last emperor of the world, and himself a
Spaniard, made brave efforts to keep back the invader. He
is described, on the favourable side of his character, as
devout and noble-minded, a firm believer in the Christian
religion, an able general, and a determined statesman ; but,
on the other hand, he was cruel, remorseless, superstitious,
passionate, bigoted, self-willed. He has been called the
first Christian Inquisitor. After his death, in 395, came the
century of depression and misery, the struggles with Alaric
and Attila, and the disruption of the Western Empire, in
which Spain, with its boundless cornfields and its inexhaust-
ible mines, in many particulars the richest and most important
of all the provinces, fell into the hands of the barbarians
the Visigoths holding in check the Vandals, Suebi and Alans.

I

130 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

In the reign of Leovigild, who died in 586, the greatest of the
Visigothic kings of Spain, the country once more attained a
prosperity and tranquillity such as prevailed in the best days
of its past, the Arian heresy was abandoned by the court,
and Roman, Visigoth, and Spaniard, indeed all the races of
the Peninsula, lost much of their antagonism and their
antipathy to intermarriage.

Nineteen kings of Gothic race reigned in Spain after the
death of Leovigild till, in the early part of the eighth century,
the Moor came, and step by step brought the country within
the dominion of the Crescent. Innumerable and extravagant
legends have grown up around the name of Roderick, * the
last of the Goths ' : enchanted towers, lovely and distressful
damsels, avenging sires, milk-white steeds, nights and pur-
suits all the incidents of romance, ' investing,' says Burke,
' with a halo of chivalry and sentiment the uncertain tale
of the decay and destruction of the Visigothic Empire in
Spain, and of the triumph of the Moslem in Europe.' By
the year 714, Roderick had fallen in battle, and all Spain
south of the Pyrenees had passed into the hands of the
Mohammedan.

Decay had been long going on, or the kingdom had not so
easily fallen. During the reign of the later Gothic kings,
so weak and insignificant were they, the real rulers of the
country were the bishops and clergy. It is true that Christ
declared that His kingdom was not of this world, yet again
and again the Church has produced prelates who have dis-
played extraordinary ability in managing secular affairs. Of
these, perhaps, history tells of few greater than Isidore of
Seville. Born of a noble and wealthy family, about the
year 560, and educated in a monastery, on the death of his
brother Leander in 599 he became archbishop of Seville,
and held that see till 636. His scholarship and reading were
extensive. ' Profoundly versed in the Latin as well as in
the Christian literature,' says the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
' his indefatigable intellectual curiosity led him to condense
and reproduce in encyclopaedic form the fruit of his wide
reading. His works, which include all topics science,
canon law, history, and theology are unsystematic and
largely uncritical, merely reproducing at second hand the
substance of such sources as were available.' He was a
great authority in the Middle Ages. But, in his management
of his office and in the part he played in the provincial and
national councils, he had a far more profound influence in

THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN 131

the organization and life of the Church in Spain. Burke
gives him high praise. ' Isidore is undoubtedly the greatest
writer as well as the greatest churchman of Visigothic Spain,
and one of the worthiest saints in her calendar.' Perhaps he
is chiefly remembered for his Mozarabic Liturgy and his
History of the Goths. The eighth council of Toledo declared
him to be the ' Egregious Doctor of Spain.'

The most distinguished of the pupils of St. Isidore was
St. Ildefonso, made metropolitan of Toledo in 658, and for
ten years the ruler of Spain. He enjoyed the extraordinary
favour of a personal visit from the Blessed Virgin ; and lest
the sceptically inclined reader should dismiss this statement
as an idle tale, we are told on the best authority that the
legend is received with the fullest assurance of faith by some
of the most learned and critical of Spanish scholars. One
morning, we are told, the Virgin came down from heaven,
and attended matins in the cathedral at Toledo, sitting in
the archbishop's seat. No one has sat there since. It was
attempted, but angels instantly expelled the intruder. The
service ended, St. Mary placed on Ildefonso's shoulders a
cassock which she assured him came from the treasures of
her Son. This cassock, known as La Casulla, has never
been worn by any other man. When Ildefonso's successor
put it on it nearly strangled him. At the Moorish invasion
it was taken to Oviedo, and is said to be still there in the
ancient chest at the cathedral. A shrine has been erected
over the exact spot in the church at Toledo where the Virgin
appeared, and Ford tells us that encased in red marble
is the slab on which the Virgin really alighted, with the
inscription, ' Adorabimus in loco ubi steterunt pedes ejus.'
Ildefonso becomingly expressed his gratitude to the Blessed
Virgin for her consideration of him by writing a treatise,
De Virginitate S. Mariae a document still extant, but
inappropriate for translation. By his devotion San Ildefonso
reached a high place in Spanish esteem indeed, second in
honour only to St. James of Compostella.

After the conquest, the Moors, especially kindly disposed
towards the Jews, were not severe on the Christians. They
were rather disagreeable than harsh. They demanded heavy
taxes and liberal gratuities of their Christian subjects, and
they would have been exultant at their conversion to the
Prophet, but so long as the revenues came in regularly and
freely, and there was no open rebellion, they were not exact-
ing in the matter of religion. Indeed, Abd-ar-Rahman,

132 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

appointed by the Caliph in 721 to be Amir or governor of
Spain, a man of strict justice, honest, vigorous, and en-
lightened, was scrupulously anxious to reconcile the people
to his rule. He confirmed them in the peaceful possession
of their churches and of their lands and property of every
description. And though there were no less than twenty
Amirs bearing authority within the first forty years of the
Moorish occupation of Spain, so long as the inhabitants
refrained from opposing the government their rights were
jealously guarded and no attempt was made to draw them
from Christianity. It is true that the victory won by Charles
Martel over Abd-ar-Rahman in October 732, just one hundred
years after the death of Mohammed, checked for ever the
progress of Islamism beyond the Pyrenees, yet little bitterness
seems to have been felt towards the conquered people of the
Peninsula.

We do not purpose, nor have we the time, even to sketch
the events which marked the ascendancy and the decline of
Mohammedan power in Spain. We can only refer to some
incidents which may serve to illustrate the activities and
changes taking place during St. James's long sleep in the
grotto at Iria. It is an exciting and epoch-making period
a story of attempts made ever and anon to break the strength
of the Moors ; of repressions, sometimes decisive, sometimes
conditional, and at other times unsuccessful, till at last the
tables turned and the invader was driven out ; and of heroes
and exploits on both sides which won fame in history and
exaggeration in romance. On the whole, the Saracen, in
bravery, nobility of character, generosity, and broad-
mindedness, compares favourably with the Christian. In art
and learning he even excelled, while his fanaticism, cruelty,
and zeal were not infrequently tempered by a sense of justice
and pity almost unknown to his opponents. Possibly the
impartial historian would decline balancing the virtues or
vices of either side. On the battlefield there is opportunity
for the outburst of rage and passion, of wrath unbridled
and of thirst for blood insatiable, and also for the exercise
of courage, mercy, and forbearance. But when one side is
struggling for independence and freedom, and the other is
bent on holding what it has won or acquired, the fierceness
of war shows itself in unalleviated fury and unmitigated
force. The fight is to the death. There were few left
wounded on those battlefields of Spain. Both sides killed
and slaughtered without remorse. They even believed they

THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN 133

were giving glory to God ; and that God was brightening
their eyes, hardening their bodies, and pointing their spears.
War was unfortunate, but it was not wrong.

Of this prolonged struggle, lasting in some part or other
of Spain for seven hundred years, we shall say but little.
While St. James slept, men died, women and children suffered,
the country was devastated, and angels' robes were wet with
tears. By and by we shall see that he came back to con-
sciousness, and gave of his strength to save the land which
he had once converted.

But let us turn to happier scenes : to Cordoba, ' the bride
of Andalusia,' set up in the spring of 756 as the capital of
the Amirs and Caliphs of Spain. An Arab writer declares :
* Cordoba was to Andalusia what the head is to the body,
or what the breast is to the lion.' Here for thirty-two years
reigned the first Abd-ar-Rahman, and when he died, in 788,
the kingdom of Cordoba had become, says Burke, one of the
most powerful, and certainly by far the most enlightened, of
the commonwealths of Europe. And here glory remained for
four hundred years ' the most beautiful, the most magnifi-
cent, the most luxurious, the most civilized city of mediaeval
Europe in the tenth century.'

From the early days of Mussulman rule in Spain, Cordoba
set itself up as a rival to Mecca. It would be the sacred city
of the western Mohammedan world. Here on the site of a
Visigothic church, which had itself been built on the ruins
of a Roman temple, dedicated to Janus, Abd-ar-Rahman I.
founded a mosque, to which he gave the name of Zeca or
House of Purification, and which was destined in the course
of two centuries and a half to become, after the Kaaba at
Mecca, the largest and most beautiful Islam building in the
world, and but a little less in size than St. Peter's at Rome.
In the days of its greatest splendour it had nineteen gateways
of bronze, and four thousand seven hundred lamps, fed with
perfumed oil. Its gorgeous roof was supported by twelve
hundred columns of porphyry, jasper, and many-coloured
marbles, dividing into nineteen aisles longitudinally and
twenty-nine transversely. Its sanctuary was paved with
silver and inlaid with rich mosaics. Most wonderful, per-
haps, was the pulpit of ivory and choice woods in thirty-six
thousand separate panels, many encrusted with precious
stones and fastened with gold nails. But the most valued
treasure of the Zeca had been secured in the eighth century :
some of the bones of Mohammed himself. These relics

134 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

became the wonder and envy of all Spain, of Christian no less
than of Mohammedan.

Besides the great mosque were many smaller ones, and
a number of palaces. The beauty of these palaces may be
judged from an Arab description of the one called ' Damascus. '
The writer was carried away by his enthusiasm. ' All
palaces in the world are nothing when compared to Damascus,
for not only has it gardens with the most delicious fruits and
sweet-smelling flowers, beautiful prospects and limpid running
waters, clouds pregnant with aromatic dew, and lofty build-
ings, but its night is always perfumed, for morning pours
on it her grey amber, and night her black musk.'

Even the principal roads approaching Cordoba had their
inns or rest-houses, exquisitely built and furnished at the
expense of the State, where free of charge the traveller could
repose and obtain an idea of the glories awaiting him. In
the city itself, he beheld with ever-increasing astonishment
building after building, gardens, fountains, squares and
streets, dreams of loveliness, the Palace of Flowers, the
Palace of Contentment, and the Palace of Lovers, structures
second only to the splendour of the great mosque or Mezquita,
or the Damascus itself ; while in one of the suburbs, under
the shadow of the mountain, once covered with oaks and
beeches, and now with fig -trees, almonds, and pomegranates,
stood Az Zahra, the most wonderful of all palaces, a fairy
edifice of which we are told no words could paint the magnifi-
cence. This was the most perfect and elaborate building
of the age, set in grounds extending some four thousand feet
from east to west and two thousand two hundred feet from
north to south. Day by day, for forty years, ten thousand
workmen are said to have been employed, and the wealth
and resources of the Caliph were freely lavished on its con-
struction. ' Travellers from distant lands/ Mr. Burke says,
' men of all ranks and professions, princes, ambassadors,
merchants, pilgrims, theologians and poets, all agreed that
they had never seen in the course of their travels anything
that could be compared with Az Zahra, and that no imagina-
tion, however fertile, could have formed an idea of its
beauties.' Not a vestige of this marvellous creation of art
and fancy, of resplendent extravagance, remains even to
mark the spot on which it stood ; else, so competent authori-
ties declare, we could afford to despise the Alhambra and
all the other works of the declining ages of Moorish art.

This then was the Mohammedan metropolis of the West.

THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN 135

No wonder that its ruler proclaimed himself Caliph. The
city beside the noble Guadalquivir became both the pride
and the envy of all Spain. Here culture and education had
a development scarcely equalled since classical times. The
wisdom and skill of its physicians increased the lustre of its
fame. As a religious centre, with its theological schools and
mighty masters of Mohammedan learning, it attracted large
numbers of students and professors. Maulvis and fakirs,
the scribes and pharisees and mendicants of Islam, abounded
there. Fanaticism and splendour went hand in hand to
extend the pretensions of the Prophet ; and in the city which
Rome and Constantinople might envy, but neither Athens
nor Jerusalem could reproduce, many Christian renegades
found themselves happy under the considerate rule of the
Caliphs and prosperous from the privileges allowed them.

And yet it is probable that both Mohammedans and Chris-
tians attributed much of the superiority of Cordoba, not to
the taste, ambition, or wealth of the Caliphs, but rather to
the possession of some of the bones of the Prophet. These
sacred relics not only attracted pilgrims, but also inspired
builders and artists. They assured peace and plenty to all
who revered them. They conveyed blessing to the faithful,
and created jealousy in the unbeliever. And jealousy begot
emulation, and emulation opened the Christian treasure-
house. Therein were soon discovered fragments and articles
associated with saints and angels which in mystery and
efficacy outstripped the fondest inventions of either pagan
or Moslem. The left heel of Mohammed, if such were the
Zeca's object of adoration, would lose its virtue when the
cave at Iria revealed the body of an Apostle of that Lord
compared with whom Mohammed was thin and weak as
dust.

It is not, however, to be implied that the peaceful and
prosperous possession of Cordoba meant that all Spain had
passed under the sway of the invader. The struggle between
Moor and Spaniard went on with varying vigour and success
in many parts of the country. In some regions the Spaniard
held his own, and native princes still assumed title and
dignity, and endeavoured to administer law. Not infre-
quently they entered into alliances with the more powerful
Mohammedan ; and ever and anon rebellion broke out in
districts more decisively subject to foreign rule, and the
repression thereof generally tended to the strengthening of
the Moorish conqueror. Then the tide turned, and little by

136 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

little, after lengthened and stupendous effort, the Spaniard
regained his own, and the alien was driven out or subjugated.

Thus in North-western Spain, the hiding-place of Gothic,
Roman, and Iberian refugees, under the leadership of Pelayo,
who was described by his enemies as a ' despicable barbarian,'
and by his friends as the ' saga-celebrated saviour of Chris-
tianity in the Peninsula,' and from whom the sovereigns of
Spain derive their ancestry, the kingdom of Asturias, which
included Galicia and Leon, maintained its own. No more
romantic story has been written than that of the defence
made by Pelayo and his little band in the cave of Covadonga.
'The rebels,' says an Arabian annalist, 'had no other food
for support than the honey which they gathered in the
crevices of the rock which they themselves inhabited like
so many bees.' So insignificant did the bellicose natives
appear, that the Moslems despised them : ' What are thirty
barbarians perched upon a rock ? ' A fatal mistake !
'Would to God,' says another Arabian writer, 'that the
Moslems had then extinguished at once the sparks of a fire
which was destined to consume the whole dominions of
Islam in these parts ! '

When the decisive battle was fought in the narrow defiles
of Covadonga, the Marathon of Spain, in the year 718,
under the leadership of Pelayo, ' the contemptible Goth,'
the Moors were driven back with terrible slaughter. A
hundred and fifty years later, a Christian bishop gravely
asserted that a hundred and twenty-four thousand of the
invaders were killed, and another sixty-three thousand were
drowned in the river. Paulus Diaconus, who should have
known the facts, if anybody did, tells us that ' the rest they
ran away ' into France, where three hundred and seventy-
five thousand of them were slain. These numbers are the
more astonishing, and the story of Pelayo is the more
bewildering, when we learn that this part of the country,
including much of Galicia and Cantabria, was never for any
length of time occupied by the Moors, and the hill country
was never penetrated by them. Nor could an army of over
four hundred and fifty thousand men have been moved
through those deep glens : or even fed. However, it was a
famous victory, and did much to discourage the invaders
from venturing into the mountain fastnesses. Pelayo was
elected king by his grateful countrymen, and in his realm,
if such it can be called, were laid the foundations of the future
kingdom of Spain ; and though later the country passed under

THE EIGHT HUNDRED YEARS IN SPAIN 137

Moslem suzerainty, yet it still retained an appreciable
independence and even strengthened its characteristics.
Pelayo began a line of kings which lasted for three hundred
years, and then continued itself in the Castilian dynasty.
Of these kings, Alfonso n., the reputed grandson of Pelayo,
and surnamed 'the Chaste,' reigned from 791 to 842. He
is shrouded in legend, but the little that we know of him
suggests a wise, pious, and able ruler. He seems to have held
his own against the Moors, perhaps rather by judiciously
arranged tribute than by force of arms. Neither Moslem
nor Christian was strong enough either on the one side to
invade or on the other side to repel : therefore both entered
into compromises, one of which allowed mixed marriages.
Such a concession was distasteful enough to Christian people,
but had it not been accepted, still more hateful would have
been the annual tribute, to be paid in kind, of one hundred
Christian maidens demanded by the Arabs of Cordoba.
Burke states that some authors treat this latter condition
as sober history, and it may be founded on some incident
now forgotten. But as it stands, in spite of its fame and
plausibility, it is undoubtedly simple fiction.

It was in the reign of Alfonso n. that the body of St. James
the Great was discovered, and the eight hundred years came
to an end.

CHAPTER XII
CHARLEMAGNE AND EONCESVALLES

THOSE, too, were the days of Charlemagne, who from his
grandfather Charles Martel and his father Pippin the Short
inherited the ambition not only of becoming master of a
united empire, but also of driving the Moslem out of Europe.
Great in history, he is still greater in romance. Ursa Major,
once associated with Odin, becomes ' Karlswagen ' in German
and ' Charles's Wain ' in English though some folklorists
say that the latter is a corruption of ' Churl's Wain ' or
peasant's cart : a disagreeable conjecture. He became king
of the Franks in 768, being then about twenty-six years old,
and he was crowned emperor in Rome by Leo in., on Christ-
mas Day in 800. Few men have played a more important
part in the world's life than he. There was scarcely any part
of Europe where his power did not make itself felt. He is
described as a big, robust man, ' about seven of his own feet '
in height, with rather primitive ideas of sexual morality,
able to read but not to write, devoted to scholarship and to
ecclesiastical as well as to imperial affairs, mighty in organiza-
tion though not in war, a voluminous law-maker, a magnifi-
cent builder, and a firm and faithful friend. He rarely
missed sight of anything, great or small, which served his
ambition and strengthened his purpose. His devotion to the
Church was whole-hearted and absolute. His theology was
as virulent as his superstition. To enhance his reputation,
legend spoke of him as a martyr suffering for the Faith. He
loved saints and worshipped relics, though he warned the
people against having too many of either. On him rests
the responsibility of the filioque in the Nicene Creed. In
1165 he was canonized, and such kings as Louis xi. united
in strict orders that the feast of the saint should be observed.
Many celebrated and learned men adorned his court and
secured his confidence : among them Alcuin, the English
scholar ; Paulus Diaconus, the author of the History of the
Goths already alluded to in these pages ; and Eginhard, who
wrote De Vita Caroli Magni, which has been justly styled

138

CHARLEMAGNE AND RONCESVALLES 139

'one of the most precious literary bequests of the early
Middle Ages/ all the more trustworthy since the great
emperor's secretary and confidant x knew his master inti-
mately, admired him unselfishly, and judged him fairly.

More famous than these, at least in legend if not in
history, was Turpin, archbishop of Rheims. He is probably
to be identified with Tilpin, who held that see the third
before the celebrated Hincmar ; but through all the centuries
and in all the chansons de geste he is known as Turpin. The
old ballads are loud in his praises : ' By such a priest as he
has mass never been chanted.' He was a courageous man,
as well on a battlefield as in a council chamber ; though his
war-spirit and love of adventure make the modern reader
think rather of the highwayman than of an archbishop.
Possibly legend has attributed to him more deeds of valour
than he actually accomplished. His immediate predecessor
was one Milo, afterwards bishop of Trier, who was created
archbishop by Charles Martel in place of a deposed prelate
named Rigobert. This Milo undoubtedly had military
propensities, and he was once sent by the king on a mission
to the very people, the Vascones or Basques, who caused the
disaster at Roncesvalles. Be this as it may, Turpin got the
credit of exploits which made him more famous as a warrior
than as a priest. If he did not literally live, he should have
done so, for the world is all the better for heroes such as he.
So said the Chanson de Roland : ' Would to God indeed that
many more were like him ! ' As a creation he reflects credit
on his inventor.

On the other hand, if he may be identified with Tilpin, it
is fairly certain that he became archbishop of Rheims about
the year 753, and died in 794, or, according to some authori-
ties, on September 2, 800. He was one of twelve bishops of
France who attended a council held at Rome under Pope
Stephen m. in 769.

This is all that history says of him. But Archbishop
Turpin in legend is a much more interesting character. The
first to mention him is Raoul de Torlaine, a monk of Fleury,
writing from 1096 to 1145. He is said to have written a
book entitled Historia Karoli Magni et Roiholandi ; and in
the year 1122 Pope Calixtus n. declared the book to be
authentic. With such an imprimatur, the book had a wide
diffusion, and it revived the fervour of the pilgrimages to
St. James of Compostella. In it is related an apparition of
St. James to Charlemagne. The saint orders the emperor

140 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

to come into Spain and to follow with his army the direction
of the Milky Way, which thenceforth was called the ' Path
of St. James.' We shall have more to say of this legend
later on.

But modern scholarship holds that the first five chapters
of this chronicle attributed to Archbishop Turpin were
written about the middle of the eleventh century by a monk
of Compostella, and the remainder between 1109 and 1119
by a monk of St. Andre de Vienne. The latter author,
thinking it would add dignity and authority to the work,
boldly ascribed it to the archbishop. The second part, being
inspired by the chansons de geste and the traditions, thus
preserving an ancient form of the legends, is of real literary
importance. The whole book was translated into French
as early as 1206, and before the end of the century four more
versions were made. I need scarcely add that the Chronicle
of Turpin was quoted frequently by Ariosto in his Orlando
Furioso.

So clearly and distinctly does Archbishop Turpin stand
out in legend, not only as having part in the glorification of
the Apostle of Compostella, but also as having a spirit like
unto that valiant son of thunder, that we regard him as one
of the important productions of his age. He had both the
ear and the heart of the great emperor. He was not only
his confessor and perhaps the most trusted of his counsellors,
but he was also one of his twelve paladins. We picture him,
therefore, both as bishop and knight, a hero of cross and
sword, in church singing Te Deum lustily and with good
courage, and on the battlefield no less vigorously shouting
war-cries and hurling to perdition souls which under other
circumstances he would have given his life to save.

But of all the events that happened in Charlemagne's
reign, more important than his tremendous influence on the
relations of Church and State, or his incorporation of Teutonic
lands in the Holy Roman Empire, so far as legend is con-
cerned, none is more popular or more fascinating than the
adventures of Roland in the wild gorge of Roncesvalles.
The date of the immortal episode is said to have been August
18, 778, and the conditions known to history may be simply
and briefly told in a few sentences.

Soon after the Easter of that year, Charlemagne crossed
the Pyrenees with an army, moved not so much, as one
would naturally suppose, ' by pity for the groans of the
Spanish Christians under Saracen oppression,' as by an

CHARLEMAGNE AND RONCESVALLES 141

invitation to take sides in a dispute which had divided the
Moorish conquerors. His army gathered at Caesar-Augusta,
now Saragossa, and made an expedition against Pamplona,
which place he took and razed to the ground. He met with
little other success, and after a few months of useless effort
he began his retreat. The main army had gone through
the valley, when an ambush of mountaineers attacked the
baggage-train and rearguard. The struggle was soon over.
The whole of the rearguard was cut to pieces, and among
the nobles who fell were Eggihard the seneschal, Anselm the
count of the palace, and Hruodland the prefect or guardian
of the Breton march or frontier. No one has told the story
more impartially or attractively than Dr. Thomas Hodgkin
in his Life of Charles the Great.

Legend, however, as every schoolboy knows, dealt freely
and excitingly with the episode. Roland became the most
conspicuous and the best beloved hero of the Middle Ages.
Not even Leonidas at Thermopylae has a more glorious
immortality than he. The minstrels ' said a thousand
beautiful things concerning his life and his heroic death ' ;
and long after the disaster of Roncesvalles, his was a name
to conjure with, as was done when ' Norman Taillefer sang
as he spurred his horse and tossed his sword aloft before the
battle of Hastings.' He was the ideal of a warrior which
nations other than his own entertained. So Shakespeare in
the First Part of Henry the Sixth makes Reignier, duke of
Anjou, say :

'Froissart, a countryman of ours, records,
England all Olivers and Rowlands bred
During the time Edward the Third did reign.'

But as Roland had nothing to do with St. James of
Compostella, we are not so much concerned with him not
even with his valiant deeds in the field, his breaking of his
spear, or the deadly blows he dealt with his good sword
Durenda ; or his grief over the death of Oliver, whom he
loved so well ; or his own brave end, when he bade his
attendants lay him with his face towards Spain, so that
Charlemagne should not think he turned his back to his
foes, and the archangel Gabriel took his right-hand glove
which he proffered to God, and he folded his hands, and God
sent His angels to carry his soul to Paradise. It was a lost
battle, but no true soul was lost.

We need not tell the story of that sad day. A place where

142 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

melancholy reigned. A dismal gorge. ' High are the hills/
says the old chanson, ' and the valleys dark ; the rocks are
bleak, and the country strange and fearful.' And an awful
gloom prevailed not only in the pass itself, but, while the
battle raged, far away, ' very great darkness over all the
land ' ' the darkness was very thick, and neither sun nor
moon could give their accustomed light.' And no such dire
slaughter, not in the memory of mortal man

' When Roland brave and Oliver,
And every paladin and peer,
On Roncesvalles died.'

And still may travellers as they pass through the valley in
the drear, shadowy eventide hear the battle-cry ' Montjoie,'
and the winding of Eoland's horn Olifaunt. The souls of
that bitter defeat, says one wanderer, are there yet.

More to us, as concerning St. James, is Archbishop Turpin,
and among the heroes of Roncesvalles none displayed more
daring than he : lion-hearted, ever hopeful, ceaseless in
energy. He is one of the mighty spirits, peer of Roland and
Oliver, passing hither and thither through the host, cheering,
fighting, blessing, killing, settling disputes, ready for aught
that comes to hand. Here he celebrates mass and consecrates
knights and soldiers. Yonder he pledges heaven itself as a
return for every life. ' Vassals of God,' he cries, ' ye shall
inherit crowns of glory and God will reward you with His
blessed paradise ! Ye shall have your seats among the
saints ! Ye shall rest among the blessed angels in the land
where no coward shall ever come ! ' He turns aside to kill
a sorcerer whom Jupiter had once by devilish arts led to
hell. ' Such blows rejoice me greatly,' said Roland when
he heard of it. He met a Saracen felon, with countenance
blacker than molten pitch, and fearful in the pride of his
anger. Said the archbishop softly to himself, ' Methinks
this vile heathen hath but a short time to live.' And so it
was. He fell lifeless upon a spot where yet no corpse lay.
The Franks who beheld the combat shouted for joy. ' Full
well,' said they, ' does the archbishop know how to defend
the Cross ! ' And again Roland sang his praises. ' A noble
knight is Turpin, and on all the earth we shall never find his
equal ! '

Indeed, than the archbishop none knew better how to
handle lance and blade. Nor could none hate more vigor-
ously and at the same time more righteously than he. Before

CHARLEMAGNE AND RONCESVALLES 143

he received the wound which in the end proved fatal, he
laid five of the foe in the dust. But he was sore driven, and
through his body passed four of the enemies' lances. Even
then he wielded his burnished sword Almice, and laid about
him. St. Michael himself fought no less furiously against
the fallen angels. * Soon,' so runs the chanson, ' are four
hundred pagans lying stretched around him ; some of them
are gashed with wounds, some pierced athwart the body, and
some there are whose heads are severed from their bodies.'
It was a tremendous exploit, even for an archbishop. Some
may question its verity. The chronicler suspected that
possibility, for he adds : ' So runs the ancient annal, and so
Saint Giles relates who saw the battle, and recorded all the
deeds thereof in the monastery of Laom ' ; and he adds,
there being nothing else to say : ' He who contradicts knows
nothing of the matter.'

But the archbishop was not dead yet. He lived to see the
turn of the tide. Notwithstanding the four spear-thrusts
through him, and blood dripping from every wound, he stood
with Roland and helped to drive back the Saracens. They
fled, even as the host of Sisera fled before Barak. ' There
was not a man left.' And the slaughter over, Roland went
to the archbishop. 'And quickly he unlaced his helmet,
and drew aside his comely hauberk, and the coat below his
armour he wholly rent in pieces, for a part of it would he
take to staunch his gaping wounds. And right tenderly did
he press him to his breast, and gently he laid him down upon
the green sward, if perchance the cool air might bring him
some refreshment.' Then Roland went over the field and
searched the valleys and the mountains for the bodies of his
friends who had died. One by one he carried the bodies,
and placed them all in order before the archbishop's knees.
Then the archbishop absolved and blessed them, and com-
mended them to the God of glory. Roland was overcome
with emotion, and fainted. The archbishop, indefatigable
as ever, tried to fetch water from a brook near at hand. He
was too weak for the effort and dropped by the way. Roland
recovered in time to see the archbishop look up to heaven,
clasp his hands together, and die.

Roland had still strength and mind enough left to lament
his dead friend : ' Pair lord and knight of noble lineage,'
said he, not forgetting that the archbishop was of no common
stock, 'now do I commend thee to the God of heaven!
Never was a man on earth who served Him more willingly,

144 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and since the time of the Apostles never was such a prophet,
either to keep his word or to draw the souls of men. And
now mayest thou feel no more the pangs of grief and suffering,
and mayest thou find the gates of paradise open to receive
thee ! '

No such eulogy was uttered over the martyred body of
St. James the Great, so far as we know, but Turpin deserved
it. ' All his life,' says the poet, ' had he been a valiant
champion against the heathen both in word and deed ; and
now may God grant him His holy benediction ! '

In due time Charlemagne recovered the bodies of Roland
and Oliver his noble comrade and the wise and valiant
Turpin. They were placed in white coffins, and were taken
to Blaye, on the other side of the Gironde, and there in the
church of St. Eomain, according to the chanson, ' are they
lying even now.'

It was a glorious ending to a useful and tempestuous life.
Few archbishops have an ending nearly so glorious, and few
archbishops live in song and legend so happily. But, alas !
neither song nor legend contains a shadow of truth. If
Turpin lived at all, he did not die at Roncesvalles. He
should have done so, for in reading the Chanson de Roland
one becomes warmly attached to the brave old prelate and
gets to wish him well, and above all a splendid finish to life.
Only, other stories, of no less authority, speak of him as
living for some years after the fight in the mountains, and as
having further part in the career of Charlemagne. I admit
that I may have become somewhat confused about dates
and legends. I am conscious that I am wandering over a
quagmire rather than journeying over firm ground. But I
am doing the best I can, and if in this intricate study I
chance hereabouts to mislead, I shall be more sorry than I
can imagine the reader to be.

And yet, lacking in veracity as the legend seems to be, it
has not lived in vain. The story of Roncesvalles has glad-
dened the heart of many a youth and inspired many a man
with courage, perseverance, and faith. Perhaps they whom
it has helped most have thought little of the reality of the
heroes or the events. The tradition appealed to their con-
sciousness of the Tightness of things. Roland was what a
knight should be, and Turpin set an example that all arch-
bishops might well follow. They were ideals. To them the
Cross meant sacrifice. Life was all sacrifice. And even
though the critics say that the story is nothing but tradition

CHARLEMAGNE AND RONCESVALLES 145

and myth, yet as Mr. Chesterton truly observes, ' it needs a
truth to make a tradition/ and ' he who has no sympathy
with myths has no sympathy with men.' Nor can I think
that I am without excuse, when speaking of the Eight
Hundred Years of Silence, in presenting this legend. No
one could come so near to Roncesvalles without saying at
least as much as I have said. Moreover, it was such a man
as Roland or Turpin that the Spanish people imagined St.
James to have been ; and as we shall see, the Apostle played
the part well.

We turn from Roncesvalles. Another legend, written in
the twelfth century, says that when Charlemagne was old
and weary, he saw in the heavens more clearly than he had
been wont to see a starry road which crossed France and
Spain to the world's end beyond the sea. He saw it again
and again, but understood it not. Perhaps Archbishop
Turpin may have helped him to a solution of the problem,
but I am not sure. At last, however, one night a fair and
comely lord appeared to the emperor, and when the emperor
asked his name and his mission, the stranger replied :

' I am James the Apostle, Christ's servant, Zebedee's son,
John Evangelist's brother, elect by God's grace to preach
His law, whom Herod slew : look you, my body is in Galicia
but no man knoweth where, and the Saracens oppress the
land. Therefore God sends you to retake the road that leads
to my tomb and the land wherein I rest. The starry way
that you saw in the sky signifies that you shall go into
Galicia at the head of a great host, and after you all peoples
shall come in pilgrimage, even till the end of time. Go, then ;
I will be your helper : and as guerdon of your travails I will
get you from God a crown in heaven, and your name shall
abide in the memory of man until the Day of Judgment.'

Few things could better illustrate the changes that inevi-
. tably come about in the course of eight hundred years than
this revelation of St. James to Charlemagne. It is by all
odds the longest speech recorded of the Apostle : indeed,
almost the only one down to this time. His ability to speak
the French of that day would be thought remarkable in any
one else. The assurance of reward is also noteworthy, and
indicates his influence with the Almighty : ' I will get you
from God ! '

The message further makes evident that the time had come
for the body of St. James to be discovered. Spain had had
many saints already, but none of them, nor all of them

K

146 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

together, had been able to save her from defeat and distress.
Nor had the country any relic to equal that of Mohammed at
Cordoba. The city of the caliphs shone with dazzling
splendour. Not only did prosperity and peace abide there
undisturbed, but there Islam appeared in a development not
second to that at Bagdad or Mecca. It was high time that
the Apostle to Spain, the companion of the mighty Peter
and the universally beloved John, should do something to
save the country he had wrought so mightily to convert.
And Archbishop Turpin, who, for aught I know, may have
taught St. James the words that Charlemagne heard, or
perhaps had been the medium by whom they were shaped
and spoken, impressed the vision on his imperial lord.
Charlemagne obeyed the call. He hastened to Spain ; and
much to his joy, when he met his friend and ally, Alfonso n.,
king of the Asturias, he found that the body of St. James
had been brought to light, and that Spain had now a patron
saint. More than all else, the son of Zebedee who had re-
turned to his own was no mere fisherman of Galilee, plain,
uncultured, and poorly bred, but a prince and a knight a
prince nobler than Turpin and a knight more dauntless and
valiant than Roland.

How this had happened, and happened so opportunely,
shall be told in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIII
THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION

AOGOEDING to some authorities the body of St. James was
discovered in the year 808, and according to other equally
trustworthy authorities in the year 835. The exact date is
of little consequence, and I shall not venture to assume
which year has the honour. If Charlemagne was concerned
in the matter, the former must be nearer the year, for he
died in 814. The archbishop of Santiago in 1898 decided
in favour of the year 813. At that time Leo in. held the
Supreme Pontificate, and as we have just seen, Alfonso n.
reigned as king of the Asturias : the one practically a depend-
ant and the other a firm ally of the emperor. The bishop of
Iria Flavia then was one Theodomirus, of whom nothing is
known except the part which he took in the discovery of the
sacred body ; but he seems to have been a practical and
earnest man, simple-minded and full of faith. He was
exactly qualified for the occasion.

The neighbourhood of Iria had been for some centuries,
and was still, frequented by hermits, and it has been con-
jectured that in times of persecution they had heaped earth
and stones and planted bushes over the cavern in which, as
in a chapel, lay the remains of the Apostle. They obliterated
all traces of approach to the venerated spot. It had thus
been lost sight of and forgotten. For the time being all
recollection of the Apostle had passed away. It so happened
that about the time we have now reached, the early years
of the ninth century, there abode in these secluded wilds a
respected and pious anchorite named Palagio. Of the same
bent of mind, tired of a world so evil and restless that they
could be of no further use to it, wearied perhaps of home
and family ties and of the ordinary ways of making a liveli-
hood, and anxious to win for themselves the better country,
other men had their retreats in the same unfrequented
regions. Ragged, long-bearded, slovenly, unkempt indi-
viduals, they subsisted, as hermits generally did, on honey
and herbs which they gathered from the rocks, and on such

147

148 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

morsels as a devout peasantry might leave at certain places
for them. An indolent, uneventful, and useless life, had
they not spent such time as they could spare from sleep and
rest in prayer and meditation. Here and there one might
be found who exercised his body, and at the same time
tormented his flesh, by tilling a bit of ground near his hut
or cave. None of them bathed or warded off either biting
or stinging insects. Nor did they disturb their thoughts by
reading or conversation. They rejoiced in the blisters made
on neck or arms by the sun. A hard, inflamed, and suppur-
ating excrescence they regarded as a godsend. They gloried
in their ignorance, and thanked the Almighty for their
credulity and superstition. He was the greatest man among
them who could accept the greatest absurdity or perform the
severest immolation. Thus they lived, and none of them,
it would seem, more devotedly than the venerable Palagio ;
and though they knew nothing of St. James, most likely
indeed never thought of him, they had their reward, Palagio
first and most bountifully of them all.

For Heaven was pleased to use him in working its will
concerning St. James. Henceforth he should be ever associ-
ated with the great Apostle. One night, much to his aston-
ishment, he saw an exceedingly bright star lighting up the
darkened sky and lingering in its significant splendour over
a hill covered with thick bushes. He spoke of this strange
appearance, not only to his hermit-brethren, but also to
some shepherds, godly friends, alike interested in curious and
possibly holy things. They talked the matter over, night
after night, and the shepherds too saw the great star, and
many little stars that seemed to run and flicker among the
trees and thickets, as though they would have the watchers
follow them into the darkness. The more frequently they
beheld the brilliant light almost over their heads, and the
lantern-like meteors passing hither and thither around them,
the more certain grew the conviction that they had to do
with something supernatural and miraculous. More than
this : as they watched, bewildered and awe-stricken, they
heard voices softly singing in the dark woods, marvellous
antiphons and anthems, such as choirs chant in adoration
before the altar. Then the stars faded away, and silence
once more prevailed. What did these things mean ?

Neither the anchorites nor the shepherds could imagine an
answer to the question. The more they pondered over the
vision, the more stupendous it became. So they went into

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 149

the town and told their story to Theodomirus the bishop.
He at once discerned the hand of God. These humble-
hearted men were being used for the unfolding of divine
purposes. He ordered three days of prayer and fasting.
Then he saw a way into the mystery.

It chanced to be July 25, a Sunday and the Feast of St.
James the Apostle and Martyr : a remarkable and happy
coincidence, though the bishop had no thought of it. Theo-
domirus, properly invested for whatever might turn up,
assembled the canons of his cathedral and a retinue of
respectable citizens of Iria Flavia, and under the guidance
of Palagio and some of the shepherds set out to find the spot
indicated by the star. Workmen furnished with axes, picks,
and shovels went with them, but we are not told how it
came to be suspected that such implements would be needed.
Nor does the legend state that the star, at this time of day
brighter than the meridian sun, appeared and hovered over
the desired place ; but we can well imagine that the bishop
and his attendants were some way or other assured and
encouraged in their search. At last the very spot was ascer-
tained beyond all doubt. It was overspread with dense
undergrowth and thickets, and only by strenuous labour
could this mass of brushwood and trees be cleared away.
Then came the digging through the roots and soil which had
accumulated all these centuries, requiring faith no less pain-
ful than effort. But before the summer sun had reached the
western clouds, both faith and effort were rewarded.

It was a stupendous moment in the life of Spain when the
spade first struck the rock at the entrance of the cave ! Or
was there a cave ? And if so, what was in it that had dis-
turbed that star so mightily ? No one knew. The good
bishop, the holy hermit, the canons, the citizens, and the
shepherds, to say nothing of the labourers who had made the
way, were filled with excitement. But in a few minutes the
excitement increased into profound and silent wonder, as
inside the cave, under a small altar, beneath an arch sup-
ported by pillars, appeared a sarcophagus covered with a
stone slab. No one remembered who was buried there, or
in the two stone coffins close by. Then they lifted the slab.

There was no evil smell. Nor was there at Zamora when
the grave of St. Ildefonso was opened. He had been dead
over six hundred years, and from his body exuded a sweet
and fragrant odour. And again, at Salamanca, at the un-
covering of the tomb of Bishop Geronimo, the Cid's own

150 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

bishop, though seven hundred years had gone by, a delicious
smell issued forth. This is more significant than possibly
the reader supposes. Nothing unpleasant ever comes out
of the tomb of a saint. Nor, as a rule, from the body of a
saint. The knights who found Sir Launcelot dead perceived
the sweetest savour about him that ever they smelled the
real odour of sanctity. On the other hand, the dead body
of the unbaptized emits so offensive a stench that no Chris-
tian can endure it. And the same rule obtained in the
burning of martyrs and heretics. One could always tell if
justice had been done : more certainly, perhaps, in the case
of heretics with whom, later on, Spain had no little experi-
ence. Blessed James of the Mark, a brilliant and famous
Franciscan preacher in the early part of the fifteenth century,
tells us that the flesh of people put in fire for unsoundness
in the Faith produces most obnoxious fumes. ' Ye have an
example at Fabriano,' says he, 'when Pope Nicholas v. was
there: certain of the heretics were burned, and for three
days the whole city stank therewith, as I know myself, for
I smelt the stench those three days even unto the monastery
wherein I lodged.' On the other hand, we read again and
again that from the bodies or the graves, and quite as much
from the burning flesh of martyrs, arise the most odoriferous
delights, such perfumes as are carried by a warm south wind
breathing over a bed of violets, aromas more heavenly than
those which roses or lilies can produce. So in this instance.
Not even the grotto, though closely shut up so many hundreds
of years, had the faintest disagreeable smell. The moment
the pick pierced the wall, there poured out the rich odours.
It was evident at once that some holy man or woman slept
there. The shepherds and the anchorites must have been
ready to shout and dance for joy at the outcome of their
vision. And when the slab was removed be silent, O ye
heavens ! conjecture came to an end.

There lay the body and the severed head of St. James the
Apostle !

The spectators may not have recognized him at first. To
begin with, they were not thinking of him or looking for
him. So far as we know, none of them had ever heard of
his body having been transported there ; and most likely
by this time all memory of his having preached the Gospel
in Spain had passed out of men's minds. Possibly hermits
such as Palagio and bishops such as Theodomirus, and most
Christian folk who had at heart the redemption of Spain

THE DISCOVERY AlSFD THE TRANSLATION 151

from the Moslem and the triumph of the Cross over the
Crescent, may have hoped that Heaven would at that time
send something to outrival the Relic of Cordoba. But the
most sanguine among them could scarcely have expected
God to raise up for them an Apostle : much less one of the
Three whom Jesus had exalted among the Twelve. No one
in the cave that eventide dreamed of the wonder about to be
revealed. The attendants held the torches closer to the
sarcophagus. Every eye was fastened thereon. The bishop
eagerly looked over the body, little by little the brown,
shrivelled shape, the mouldering cere-cloth wound round
head and limb, the dust that had gathered here and there,
and the bone that had protruded through the skin into
exposure. But search as he would, he saw only the form
and outline of a being that once had lived. Perhaps a
Pharaoh, though he had slept in darkness, silent and alone,
millenniums rather than centuries, had been more distinct.
Not even baptism could ward off all changes, though, to be
sure, it could produce the fragrance which would prove the
saintship. And these men stood there beside the opened
sepulchre, wondering and questioning, finding no answer and
not knowing what to think.

Then, happily and providentially, some one spied a letter
lying near the body. It may have been on vellum or papyrus,
we are not told ; but it was written, possibly in Latin, but
some say in Spanish, good Spanish, such at all events as the
bishop could understand, even though the date of the letter
ran back to a time before the Spanish language, or at least
the language known as such, came into being. But the letter
solved the problem. According to Mrs. Gallichan, who also
gives the Spanish original, in English it reads thus :

' Here lies Santiago, son of Zebedee and Salome, brother
of St. John, whom Herod beheaded in Jerusalem : he came
by sea borne by his disciples to Iria Flavia of Galicia, and
from thence on a car drawn by the oxen of the Lady Lupa,
owner of these states, whose oxen would not pass on any
further.'

The letter has probably perished; at least, none of the
authorities afford a hint of where the original may be found.
It is not at Compostella nor at Oviedo, and they who know
more about such things than I do declare that any further
search would be fruitless. Such a loss is unfortunate, for in
this sceptical age the letter would have set at rest several
doubts concerning St. James. I cannot help thinking that

152 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

its discovery, if we may dare suppose it is still in existence,
would be greeted by scholars with almost as much pleasure
as the finding of a papyrus of the first century recording the
correspondence of Christ and Abgarus. But they who saw
the document in the cave at Iria were satisfied with it. For
them no further doubt was possible. After a seclusion of
nearly eight hundred years, though generation after genera-
tion of Christian believers had forgotten him, and no one
had him in mind at the opening of the grotto, they knew
that the body of St. James the Great, in spite of aught that
the Moslem could say to the contrary, had come to light.
If some captious critic should point out that nothing what-
ever was said about this letter till nearly three hundred years
had elapsed after the revelation of the body, I can only
suggest the hypercriticism of such statements and the risk
of not taking anything for granted. Should this canon of
criticism be allowed, we should be left floundering in bogs
and marshes of doubt. Till the letter was on the verge of
being lost, there was no necessity of making copies of it ; or
till men were beginning to forget all about the discovery,
was there need of spreading abroad the story. The chronicler
of the twelfth century, being an honest man, as we have no
reason to think to the contrary, simply perpetuated par-
ticulars which were near passing away.

The certification read by Bishop Theodomirus, possibly the
only person present who could read, was taken, then, at the
time as sufficient evidence that the body discovered was that
of the Apostle. It refutes once and for all the hypothesis
that the tomb opened was that of some Roman family and
the remains found those of some Roman patrician. The
fragrance which issued from the sepulchre would naturally
dispose of any such conjecture. And the lights and voices
which led the hermits and the shepherds hitherward would
never have thrown their mystery away on an evil-smelling
pagan, no matter what his rank or fortune. Possibly the
reader may have suspected some analogy between the search
for the body of St. James, and the search by the Shepherds
and Wise Men for the Infant Christ. Analogy there may be,
but not necessarily imitation. It was not at all uncommon
in the Middle Ages to see heavenly radiances playing by night
over sites on which some great and beneficent abbey should
be built, and to hear angelic voices in sweet melody. Devout
pilgrims were sometimes helped on their way through dark
and dismal wilds by such celestial phenomena. And not

. THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 153

only did the songs of angels and the guiding of stars come
into both stories. Both St. James and Jesus Christ were
found in a grave or grotto, if we may accept traditions which
affirm that the stable at Bethlehem was either in the side of
the hill or under ground. But these coincidences mean no
more than that Abraham buried Sarah in the cave at Mac-
pelah and Joseph of Arimathea buried the Man of Galilee in
the cave in his garden. All suggestions of fraud fade away
in the light of Palagio's simplicity and Theodomirus's piety.

Doubtless tidings of the discovery were sent at the earliest
possible moment to the king. Both anchorite and prelate
must have known that nothing could more delight Alfonso's
heart than the finding of relics so transcendently precious.
Or the emperor's either. Charlemagne did indeed warn his
people against rash and unnecessary discovery of such things,
but this advice rather enhanced his pleasure when something
really worth the time and expense was brought out. As soon
as King Alfonso received the news, he gathered together the
nobles of his court and set out from Asturias.

I am not able to define clearly the exact place of the cave
at Iria. It may have been in the hill called Libredon, on
which was a garden containing a small temple dedicated,
some say to Janus, and others to Bacchus. Here the oxen
stopped of their own accord. The temple may have been in
a cave, for the men who discovered the sacred body saw in
the cave they entered arches and pillars. The bishop and
his companions did not know of the pagan god. As soon as
the Apostle's body was brought within the door, the image
fell broken to the ground, even as Dagon's figure before the
Ark of Israel. The disciples made of the dust a strong
cement which they used in the fastening of the sepulchre.
Not so long time after they themselves died in peace and
happiness, and the legend says they entered heaven, ' their
bodies being buried on either side of the Apostle.' But how
they were buried or by whom, or how many of them there
really were, I have not been careful to inquire. Most likely
only two : by name Athanasius and Theodosius. And I am
not sure that this hill of Libredon was the actual place, or
that the story can be depended upon.

But the cave could scarcely have been in the village
itself, though near by, perhaps on the way towards Compo-
stella. Wherever it was, in the exuberance of his faith, and
doubtless with full realization of the importance to Spain
and to himself of the discovery, Alfonso prostrated himself

164 ' THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

before the hallowed remains, and forthwith proceeded to
build a church over the spot where the tomb had been found.
It is said to have been a very small and a very modest edifice,
made of stones and mud. Before the body was moved
therefrom, no uncertainty survived concerning its verity.
Almost at once miracles began. ' These,' we are told by
people who know what they are talking about, ' put an end
to any doubts that might have arisen in the unbelieving
hearts of men.' Among these wonders, we read of the
rescue of a Spanish knight from the Saracens. He had been
taken prisoner into Saragossa and lodged in the dungeon of
a thick-walled castle. Almost at the point of despair, he
called upon St. James. The Apostle appeared and com-
forted him, and then took him out to the city gates, which
opened at the sign of the Cross, and carried him safely to a
Christian castle. This does not prove much as to the identity
of the body at Iria, but it shows that the Apostle was now
about and doing good in the land. Another wonder, perhaps
more to the point, as we are informed by the Acta Sanctorum,
quoting the Boole of St. James, happened in the days of
Bishop Theodomirus. A certain Italian had sinned so
greatly that he hardly dared confess and his priest dared
not absolve. By the direction of his confessor, he wrote out
his crime, and going to the shrine of St. James he laid the
parchment on the altar. The next day, being again, purely
coincidentally, the feast of St. James the Apostle, when the
bishop went to sing mass, the scroll was blank ! The sins
were clean obliterated ! This is not an uncommon miracle ;
and some have thought it likely that the penitent was none
other than Charlemagne himself the anonymous Italian,
says Professor King, being wisely substituted. The miracle
gave encouragement to other profound and notorious sinners.
If performed for one, it could be done for others.

A tremendous impression was created, not only in Spain,
but throughout western Christendom, by this discovery.
It astounded both friend and foe. Cordoba had received a
set-back. Islam might well wonder what would come of it.
On the other hand, it brought consolation and daring to
Spain, and gave Europe hope that the progress of Moham-
medanism would speedily come to an end. In these late
days we put our trust very nearly altogether in material
improvements in the art of warfare. We think of advances
such as that from slings and bows and arrows to cannons
and muskets, perhaps to aeroplanes and poison gases. We

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 155

do pray and make vows, and the more intense our devotion
and the more absolute our dependence on God, the mightier
our courage and the more steadfast our heart. Nor need we
suppose that our forefathers were more earnest in their
prayers and. vows than we. Had William of Normandy
known of gunpowder he would have used it at Senlac, and
Charlemagne would have been glad to have battalions
of modern infantry in place of his companies of archers.
They were no braver soldiers who fought at Marathon or
Chalons or Tours than they who fought at Blenheim, Water-
loo, Gettysburg, Balaclava, or in the recent. Great War.
But we are apt to underestimate the power of emotional or
spiritual influences. It is difficult for us to understand the
effect on the people, say, of the ninth century of the finding
of a relic in the verity and efficacy of which they firmly
believed. It gave them heart. Hope sprang up with
warmth and radiance as of a newly risen sun. Their physical
nature responded to the emotion which now possessed their
very soul. Depression passed away. They moved with
exhilaration, freedom, strength. They feared nothing
neither defeat nor death. You can hardly appreciate so
great a change wrought by means which you regard as
insignificant. A poor thing, say you, to put one's trust in.
But it is not the thing. It is the faith in the thing that
makes all the difference. They believed ; and you do not.
To them nothing could more surely display the providence
of God, and His care for the people who looked to Him for
help, than the revelation of the body of an Apostle in the
very country where once he had laboured and which was
now so grievously oppressed- by the enemies of the Faith.

Perhaps it was a feeling that so valiant and saintly a man
as Charlemagne, who had wrought so mightily for the triumph
of the Cross and hated so vigorously all kinds of paynims,
should have had a part in so marvellous and beneficent an
invention as this at Iria Flavia, that induced some chroniclers
to antedate the event. On the whole, I think the year 830
or thereabouts best fits the legends, if one may dare assume
anything in such a labyrinth of dates and conjectures. But
Archbishop Turpin's History of Charlemagne, which may be
found in the Codex of Calixtus n., otherwise known as the
Book of St. James, is at least interesting, even though it
carries the date back beyond 814, the year in which Charle-
magne died, and Cervantes satirically calls him ' the faithful
historiographer Turpin,' seeing that Turpin never wrote a

156 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

word of the so-called history. Let us for the nonce overlook
the date. In this chronicle we read that, perhaps in obedi-
ence to the vision which revealed to him the purpose of the
Milky Way, Charlemagne and many of his peers set out for
the pilgrimage to Iria Flavia, thus becoming the first knights
of St. James. There the great emperor and his lords knelt at
the tomb of the Apostle. Such a recognition of the authen-
ticity of the relics could not be gainsaid. It put on them, and
on the legends concerning them, the stamp of the Empire.

After these suitable and significant acts of devotion, the
emperor seems to have sought to reach the very end of the
Milky Way. The path still led on, and like a child wishing
to find the gold lying where the arch of the rainbow begins,
he would touch the spot on which earth and galaxy meet.
He met with disappointment. He went to the edge of the
Atlantic, possibly to the very point of Cape Finisterre, and
saw the great waves cleave and tear themselves despairingly
on the immovable, gaunt rocks. The march of the mighty
was stayed. ' And he flung his lance into the sea, and said
that thence man could not further go ! ' If some critic
declares that this episode occurred at some other time, I
shall not dispute his statement. The date does not matter.
I love to see the king, so godlike in his splendid figure,
stalwart, dauntless, heroic, hurling his spear against the
black-storm sea ; even as I recall Canute commanding the
rising tide of the Thames at Westminster to go back. Masters
of men ; but only children of God ! And not afraid !

But we are told in this same chronicle that the coming of
the emperor and his lords into this part of Spain had a most
salutary effect on all recalcitrant Galicians. Some of them
evidently had forsaken the faith of their fathers. The
changes had been too violent for them. Either Moorish
attractions fascinated or Moorish successes intimidated. The
Eight Hundred Years had lasted a little too long : another
indication, by the way, that the body of St. James was dis-
covered in the nick of time. So the History tells us : * And
the Gallegans, that were all turned to belief in God by the
preaching of St. James and his two disciples, and that had
turned afterwards to the sect of the Moors, were baptized by
the hands of Archbishop Turpin ; and those who would not
be baptized he put to the sword, or into the power of the
christened.' In religious matters the emperor was nothing
if not thorough. One can imagine that death by the sword
would be preferable to living in the tender mercies of the

f THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 157

orthodox. Still it may not be as bad as it looks. Don
Quixote was ready to allow that there were Twelve Peers of
France, ' but,' says he, ' I can never believe they did all those
things ascribed to them by Archbishop Turpin.'

One cannot indeed be sure when or how many times
Charles the Great came into Spain ; but even, if the legend
missed the mark, it is pleasant to picture him, and Arch-
bishop Turpin too, if he were yet alive, kneeling at the shrine
of St. James. It is said that the emperor induced Pope
Leo m. to acknowledge the discovery of the sepulchre of
St. James ; but this seems improbable. Leo rn. died in
816, two years after the emperor ; and not till the tenth
century is any papal recognition of the discovery heard of.
Then comes to light, written in Visigothic, a redaction of a
letter purporting to have been written by Leo. It, however,
refers not to the discovery of the relics at Iria, but to the
translation by the two disciples of the body from Jerusalem
to Spain. Nor is this the only difficulty. The Leo who
writes the letter is described therein as a contemporary of
the Apostle, and as there was no pojpe of that name before
the fifth century some doubt attaches itself to the letter.
There are three copies of the letter extant. In the earliest
of these redactions, the letter speaks of St. James as having
been brought to Spain by seven Spanish bishops, but a
revision some years later left the bishops out and put the
two disciples in.

But it did not need a letter from the Pope to convince
Bishop Theodomirus and his companions of the translation
of St. James from Palestine to Spain. There was his body !
And in the cave at Iria ! King Alfonso had seen it, and the
Emperor Charlemagne had acknowledged it ! The evidence
was sufficient and should have silenced for all time all
carpings and questionings concerning the early removal. The
body could not have been at Iria unless it had been taken
there ! And who more likely to take it there than the two
disciples whose remains lay beside the tomb of the Apostle ?

It so happened, in the year 813, some fifteen years before
the discovery of the body, King Alfonso had founded a
Benedictine monastery on the side of a hill, about four leagues
inland from Iria Flavia. Around this monastery, afterwards
known as San Pedro de Antealtares, grew up a little town,
beautifully situated and overlooking a country no less beauti-
ful. The first abbot was one named Ildefrede : a man of
worth, character, and reputation. To him and his twelve

158 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

monks, about the year 831, soon after the discovery, Alfonso
entrusted the care of the body of St. James. The translation,
no matter what its exact date, was effected, partly for greater
security the little town near the sea being subject to
marauders and pirates ; indeed, not many years later than
this, one of its bishops was killed under the walls by Norman
invaders and partly because of the superior physical advan-
tages of the monastery and town on the hill. No more
superb situation could have been found. The town soon
received its name. First called ' Ad S. Jacobum Apostolum '
or ' Giacomo Postola,' according to some authorities, and
according to others ' Campus Stellae,' the plain or field of
the star, it finally became simply ' Compostella.' Here with
ceremonies which have not been described, but which can
be easily imagined, solemn, affecting, appropriate, the body
was taken, carried by men's hands or drawn by oxen, as some
say, it matters neither way; and here was the permanent
sanctuary and the centre of the cult of Santiago. The place
grew. Churches, schools, hospitals, and palaces, some of
magnificent proportions and some of great architectural
beauty, adorned its sloping streets, and gardens and orchards
spread hither and thither in profuse glory, which, but for
the prevalence of rain and wind, would have vied with even
those of Cordoba. And here, not long after the year 844,
an Arab poet and diplomat, Al-Ghazal, visited the shrine of
St. James, staying in the town two months, and saw for
himself the beginnings of the rivalry between Compostella
and Cordoba.

But King Alfonso, before his death in 842, did more than
translate the body of St. James to the monastery at Compo-
stella, and much more followed that translation. For the
maintenance of the monks and the cult of the Blessed James,
he gave the land for three miles from the shrine in every
direction. Some twenty years later his successor next but
one, OrdoJao I., a man as successful in piety and in building
castles and towns as in military achievements, doubled the
radius. Later a tax for the support of the church of Compo-
stella was levied throughout Spain : every acre of ploughed
land and of vine land should pay each year so much corn or
wine. This tax was not abolished till 1835, and it was then
estimated to produce 200,000 a year. Like the Donation
of Constantine, these gifts were not known generally for
some centuries later not till they were in full operation and
their origin needed to be accounted for ; indeed, also like the

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 159

Donation, the details may have come to light to confirm and
explain their own existence. Be this as it may, the church
which contained the relics of the patron saint of Spain
became one of the most richly endowed establishments in
Europe a magnificent centre of a magnificent ideal.

It was, however, in the days of Alfonso in., surnamed the
Great, who reigned from the year 866 to the year 910, and
is celebrated as one of the wisest, most vigorous, and most
successful of Spanish chieftains, that the remains of St.
James were translated from the monastery church to a
church specially built to receive them. The dates as usual
are confusing, but it would seem that the new church was
begun in 862, while Alfonso's father, Ordono I., was still on
the throne. Mrs. Gallichan says it took thirty-five years in
building and was consecrated in 893 ; Ford declares the date
to have been May 17, 899 ; and Professor King states that
it was dedicated in 869, in the days when Sisnandus was
bishop of Iria, and in the presence of seventeen prelates.
*The exact year is of little consequence. Bishop Sisnandus
was a man of eloquence and devotion ; a warm supporter of
Ordono, and an unwavering believer in St. James ; and
Alfonso, who was born and brought up in Compostella, is
said to have loved him as a father. All the art and wealth
that Alfonso could command were put into the new building ;
and the relics of the Apostle, and other relics besides, were
enclosed in caskets of imperishable wood, probably cypress,
and deposited under their appropriate altars. The altar
above St. James's body was transferred into the new shrine
just as it was. ' As their fathers had made it, so they left it :
" nor none of us would be so hardy as to lift the stone." '

The time would come when the seat of the bishop would be
removed from Iria Flavia to Compostella ; but that time was
not yet. In the meanwhile, Iria lost its old name in that of
El Padr6n ; and it is still known as Padron. But, so far,
Compostella needed no bishop to heighten its fame. The
body of an Apostle was worth more than any living dignitary.
Even the place itself began to be called Santiago, as to this
day Santiago de Compostella. The church is spoken of as
extremely beautiful, which is most likely an exaggeration,
but it did contain statues of St. Jago, and possibly of other
saints, and among them an enormous figure of the Apostle
seated on horseback the armed knight of Spain. And now,
even in the closing years of the ninth century, the little city
shone out on the hills of Galicia, and the light thereof spread

160 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

to distant parts of the earth. Not only Christians resorted
thither, but Moslems also came and took away extraordinary
reports of its glory. Mrs. Gallichan quotes one of these
contemporary Mohammedan writers and by the way, Pro-
fessor King, who thinks she has herself seen the quotation
somewhere and not quite believed it, complains that Mrs.
Gallichan gives neither source nor authority; but Richard
Ford does, and also gives it as a curious ' proof of the early
and widespread effect and influence of the antagonistic
tutelar and tomb on the Moors.' Thus the passage reads :

' St. Yakob (St. James) is the capital of Jalikijah (Galicia),
and is the greatest and most holy sanctuary which the Chris-
tians have. It is to them the same that our shrine is to us.
Their Kabah is a colossal idol, which they have in the centre
of the largest church. They swear by it, and repair to it in
pilgrimages from the most distant parts, from Rome, and
from lands that are yet further ; pretending that the tomb
which is to be seen within the church is that of Yakob
(James), one of the twelve Apostles, and the most beloved
of Isa (Jesus) : may the blessing of God and salutation be on
him and on our prophet.'

Visitors such as he who wrote the narrative from which
this extract was taken, though without faith in the Apostle
of Compostella, were honest enough to admire the buildings
of the new city. They described them as being ' glorious
edifices, constructed with grand art and solidity.' They also
suspected that Compostella was a menace to Mohammedan
influence in Spain. The fame of the place spread through-
out the country. Its growth in size and influence, the
glorification of its patron saint, and the pretensions of his
followers excited the envy and alarm of Cordoba. In that
north-western land the people's hearts were freshened by
hope and strengthened by courage. Before the century
which followed the translation of St. James to Compostella
had approached its end, the Moor had lost much of his hold.
The pressure upon him had been ceaseless ; slow perhaps,
but certain. Other enemies had been defeated. In the Lent
of 968, an overwhelming host of Normans invaded the
country and captured Compostella. For two years they
held the town and the surrounding neighbourhood. Then,
under the protection of St. James, the people succeeded in
driving them out ; and also in suppressing some troublesome
dissensions among themselves. Though weakened by these
efforts, yet encouraged by their outcome, the victors attempted

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 161

greater things. They even dreamed of freeing the country
from the Moor. In due time ensued the inevitable Algihad
or Holy War. Once more Islam drew the sword ; the tide
turned, and once more the Crescent rose triumphantly
above the Cross.

Now came on the stage one of the most remarkable men
in Spanish history. There is, indeed, none greater among
the Arab heroes, or mightier among the soldiers of the
Prophet. Born in 939, of respectable but lowly parentage,
a poor student of the University of Cordoba, Ibn-Abu-Amir
began his career in court life about the year 967. His pro-
gress was rapid ; his promotion significant. The charm of
his manner and his dignity of bearing won the admiration
of the Sultana, a woman as strong in mind and determined
in will as she was beautiful in body, and in whose hands the
gentle and scholarly caliph, Hakam n., largely left the
affairs of state. Nor did her favour take from him the
respect of the caliph. Rising to power and distinction,
from the offices he held and his unquestioned abilities, he
made himself indispensable and popular both in the country
and in the harem. He came to handle difficult situations
with discretion and skill, and invariably with success.
When in 976 Hakam n. died, Ibn-Abu-Amir tactfully and
vigorously suppressed a court intrigue against his successor,
the youthful Hisham. He set the boy-prince on a throne
he could himself have more fittingly occupied, and inspired
him with confidence in his justice and devotion. Says
Burke :

' The Caliph was but twelve years of age, and his powerful
guardian, supported by the harem, beloved by the people,
and feared by the vanquished conspirators, took upon himself
the entire administration of the kingdom, repealed some
obnoxious taxes, reformed the organization of the army, and
sought to confirm and establish his power by a war against
his neighbours in the north.'

It has been said that Ibn-Abu-Amir was not himself a
great general ; but he had a still more important gift. As
a leader of men he had no superior, and, says the author just
quoted, ' he owned from the first that higher skill of knowing
whom to trust with command.' He rarely made a mistake
in his appointments in either the state or the army ; his
administration was just and enlightened ; he was a diplo-
matist of undisputed ability ; he loved his country and his
religion more than himself ; and in his power of persuasion

L

162 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

he had no rival. Not only did he see to it that literature,
science, and art were munificently patronized at court, and
the university of Cordoba strengthened by endowments and
the increase of scholarly men, but, such was his regard for
learning, he also took with him in all his campaigns a library
of books. He enlarged the Great Mezquita at Cordoba.
Undoubtedly his purposes were sometimes attained by
intrigue, treachery, and even murder ; but such was the
course by which others in his day and generation carried out
their plans, and it is doubtful if much, or any, moral stigma
attached itself to them. None condemned, for if need arose
none would have avoided the same means. Ambition had
no scruples. But when victorious, Ibn-Abu-Amir was ever
generous. He forgave freely. His weaknesses were not
altogether negligible, but his virtues deserved all the praise
his countrymen heaped upon them. No vizier or regent in
Spain approached him. His noble nature and kindly bearing
of successful ambition would have made any country proud
of him ; and yet it is doubtful if in any country or among
any people other than his own he would have found the way
to his fame and position, so much farther advanced in
civilization were the Moors beyond the races they subdued
or laid under tribute. Burke sums up his characteristics :
' His rise is a romance ; his power a marvel ; his justice a
proverb. He was a brilliant financier ; a successful favour-
ite ; a liberal patron ; a stern disciplinarian ; a heaven-born
courtier ; an accomplished general ; and no one of the great
commanders of Spain, not Gonsalvo de Aguilar himself, was
more uniformly successful in the field than this lawyer's
clerk of Cordoba.'

Power and success did not spoil Ibn-Abu-Amir. He took
to himself the name by which he is now generally known,
Al-Manzor al Allah ' The Victor of God ' : or ' Victorious
by the grace of God.' The name itself suggests his religious
habit and fervour. Every year he proclaimed a holy war
against the enemies of Islam. He spread terror among the
Christians. They feared him as they feared no other foe.
They magnified to a wellnigh unbelievable extent the rumours
of his bloodthirstiness. With him, said they, went ever
destruction and death. Resistance on their part increased
his zeal. Some centuries later an abbot, John de Montemajor,
writing of those days of distress, sketched a picture of
Moorish ravages. The sketch is strictly fabulous and not
from anything the abbot saw, though Professor King thinks

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 163

the stamp of truth is there. ' Where Almanzor passed, you
saw and heard such things ' even as I fancy you would
have found the like in the wake of a Christian warrior,
Charlemagne, for instance. * They passed along the road
destroying every village and town, and there was none to
resist. And thence on you would see Christians wandering
through the hills and the rocks, by fifties and hundreds,
lost like the creatures and hapless among these mountains,
men as well as women, and the women with their children,
crying and making sounds like sheep when you take their
lambs away.'

On the other hand, Almanzor rarely ignored the cry for
mercy. As Burke says, he had the ' true military virtue of
constant clemency to the vanquished.' Nor, in forming an
estimate of his character and work, should the sources of
information concerning him be overlooked. His enemies
naturally execrated him. They hesitated not at exaggera-
tion or invention. They interpreted unfavourably every word
he spoke or action he performed. No less lavish and vigorous
were the eulogies of his friends and co-religionists. No
language could sufficiently describe his virtues ; no honour
in earth's gift could be an adequate reward for his accom-
plishments. When he died his countrymen lamented him
with exceeding grief and extraordinary ceremonies ; gave
thanks for memories of grandeur and faithfulness which
could never pass away ; and imagined him as entering
Paradise greeted by the plaudits of saints and angels, and
welcomed by Allah Himself. As a contrast, a Christian
annalist makes the simple record : ' In 1002 died Almanzor,
and was buried in hell.' Some versions run, ' and was
burned in hell.'

To recount the expeditions and victories of Almanzor
would take much time and space. It is sufficient for our
purpose to touch only upon such as concern Compostella.
In 982 Bermudo n. ascen'ded the throne of Leon. Within
two years Almanzor had reduced him to a tributary. Two
years later Bermudo rebelled, and in 988 Almanzor marched
into the north-west, overran Leon, destroyed the capital
city, ransacked the monasteries and castles that lay in his
way, and compelled the king to take refuge in the mountains
of the Asturias. The conqueror made his hand felt at
Compostella, but at this time seems to have done little
damage. He returned to Cordoba, master of all, kindly
enough disposed to the caliph, though he kept him practically

164 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

a prisoner in his palace, assumed the entire administration
of the kingdom, and in 996 took to himself the title of king.
He proved himself as skilful in the council chamber as in
the field. ' The iron hand was ever clad in a silken glove.'
He suppressed conspiracies against himself with unerring
judgment, and generous, almost contemptuous, indifference.
And yet, ever and anon, trouble broke out in Galicia, and
Compostella became a thorn in his side.

At last Almanzor determined on thorough subjugation,
and undertook the most memorable of all his expeditions.
At the head of an army thoroughly equipped and well
trained he left Cordoba, July 3, 997, and set out for Galicia.
Like a consuming fire, he and his followers made their way
across country, laying waste towns and villages, palaces and
monasteries, slaying the inhabitants without thought of
mercy, driving such as kept alive as sheep are driven to
slaughter. He reached Iria. A Moorish writer, Ibn-Edhari
by name, writing about this time, tells us that Iria ' is one
of the sanctuaries of the same Santiago whose is the sepulchre.
That sanctuary is second in importance only, the Christians
feel, to the said sepulchre, and to it come the devout from the
remotest lands ; from the land of the Copts, from Nubia, and
others.' Professor King quotes this same Ibn-Edhari as
saying of St. James : ' Yakoub in their tongue is Jahcob,
who was Bishop in Jerusalem and began to run over all lands
preaching to the dwellers therein, and with that intent came
to Spain where he attained the bound. Afterwards he went
back to the land of Syria, and died there, when he had reached
the age of one hundred and twenty solar years. His disciples
fetched his body and gave it sepulture in this church, the
furthest of those which received his influence.'

Ibn-Edhari had the legend slightly twisted ; but his
version is interesting. What Almanzor and his myrmidons
did in Iria Flavia may be imagined, and yet they could not
destroy all the sites. The pious ingenuity which discovered
them in the first instance lived on, and in times favourable
and appropriate it was found to have lost none of its power.

Almanzor's courage and strength were irresistible. In his
whole military career he never met with a defeat. His
influence over his followers was unbounded. Mrs. Gallichan
tells a story illustrating this. ' Once, as he sat in his camp,
he saw his soldiers running back in panic, with the Christians
following hard upon their heels. Whereupon he threw him-
self from his seat, flung his helmet away, and sat down in the

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 166

dust. His soldiers understanding the despairing gesture of
their general, then turned, and falling upon the Christians
pursued them, till they went down before them like chaff
before the wind. Of such temper was the man who was to
bring desolation to the uncqnquered city of Compostella.'

On Wednesday, August 10, 997, the Moorish army marched
on Compostella. To subdue and destroy the city above all
other cities that threatened to outrival Cordoba was Al-
manzor's chief purpose in invading Galicia. Much to his
astonishment, he found the place deserted. The walls and
towers were unguarded. Not a man stood in the way of his
advance. The Gallegans, intimidated by his renown, had
left the city to its fate. Almanzor did not hesitate. He
forthwith razed the town to the ground. Nothing was left
standing : neither barn nor basilica. The Christian annalists,
in all the bitterness of their souls, record his outbursts of
fury against the church in which were deposited the remains
of the Apostle. He rode defiantly into the building, and
essayed to feed His horse out of the font. The horse burst
asunder and died. The font is still in existence, so there can
be little doubt of the fact. This, however, did not daunt the
Moorish chieftain. He utterly demolished the sacred struc-
ture : ' effacing every trace of it so effectually,' says an
Arab writer, 'that on the morrow no one would have supposed
that it ever existed.' Thus the glorious work of Alfonso was
brought to naught. One hundred years had passed since
the translation thereto of the blessed Apostle ; and now
broken walls and overturned altars, nothing but a heap of
ruins.

There is some disagreement among the historians as to
Almanzor's treatment of the relics. Some say that he could
not find the body of the saint : and from Richard Ford and
Mrs. Gallichan we learn that certain local divines give as a
reason that St. \James, when in danger, had the faculty of
surrounding himself with an obfuscation of his own making,
like to the cuttle-fish. Others, however, affirm that when
Almanzor stood before the tomb, ' the Moor was dazzled
by a divine splendour,' and 'he trembled.' Pope Leo xm.,
in his Apostolic Letter of November 1884, already alluded
to, is so impressed with this story, that he suggests that
Almanzor's death was the vengeance of Heaven, on account
of his pillage of Compostella. And long before this, the
learned and imaginative Mariana declared, without a shadow
of legend to support him, and contrary to fairly well-ascer-

166 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

tained facts, that Almanzor and his sacrilegious robbers met
their punishment forthwith. ' His soldiers were visited by a
sickness inflicted upon them by la divina venganza, which
carried off the entire army, not a man of the impious band
returning to Cordoba alive.'

Notwithstanding the certainty assumed in these stories,
Almanzor and his troops went back to Cordoba triumphant
and laden with spoil. Four thousand Christian captives
carried the booty. They took the doors of the church, and
the smaller of the bells. The doors were added to the glories
of the Great Mezquita, and the bells were inverted and used
as lamps therein. Nor did Almanzor die till 1002 ; and then
not as some chroniclers declare, at the battle of Calatanoza,
near Soria ' when he was carried on to the field in a litter,
being too much broken by illness to be able to mount a
horse ' f or no such battle seems ever to have been fought ;
but, as Burke assures us, ' bowed down by mortal disease,
unhurt by the arm of the enemy.'

One would have supposed that the most effective way of
destroying the influence of Compostella and breaking up the
cult of St. James would have been for Almanzor either to
take the remains of the Apostle to Cordoba, or to scatter
them as dust to the winds. He did neither. The Moorish
annalists, with a delicacy unknown to Christian historians,
and with an appreciation of the praiseworthy and devout
character of Almanzor for which we may well be thankful,
have made immortal a most charming story of the preserva-
tion of the shrine. Not even St. James could have done a
more excellent thing.

Of the inhabitants of Compostella, the Moslems found only
an aged monk a brother of San Pedro de Antealtares. He
was kneeling before the tomb of the Apostle, apparently
absorbed in his devotions and heedless of the clamour and
confusion of the intruders.

' Who art thou and what doest thou here ? } demanded
Almanzor.

' I am a familiar of Sanct Yakob, and I am saying my
prayers/ replied the old man.

' Pray on,' said the Moorish chieftain ; ' pray as much as
you wish. No man shall molest you.'

And he forthwith set a guard around the tomb to protect
it and the monk from the violence of his soldiers.

After all, as Almanzor undoubtedly perceived, the monk
had done a braver and holier thing than had they, abbot,

THE DISCOVERY AND THE TRANSLATION 167

clergy, and people, who had run away ; and St. James took
care of him.

Thus the relics of St. James were saved miraculously,
some may say ; and others, by the gracious and timely whim
of a Moor. But by whom, or how, or where they were kept
and guarded in the years which immediately followed the
devastation of Compostella and its neighbourhood, no man
records and no man knows. Of the decrepit brother of San
Pedro we hear nothing outside of the Moorish story, but he
would hardly have been left in sole possession of Compostella's
choicest treasure. And yet the soldiers who guarded him
and it, moved by some reason or other, did not take it away
with them, for when it was next heard of it was still in
Compostella hidden away and lost sight of, but only wait-
ing, as such things have the habit of doing, for the moment
when its reappearance would be opportune and startling.

For the time being, these were the darkest and most hope-
less days of Compostella. The cult of St. James had sunk
to its lowest depths. Notwithstanding the wonderful things
he had done for Spain and our next chapter will tell
of some of these he seemed to have lost his vigour, if not
his interest.

The critical and sceptical scholar will be apt to declare
that the story of St. James down to this date is entirely
without foundation. He will affirm that every legend we
have so far touched upon came into being long after the days
of which it speaks ; that the traditions were invented, or
at all events shaped and coloured, to suit a purpose which
had come into men's minds ; and that both legends and
traditions were antedated, indeed made to fit into conditions
which never existed, so as to give similitude to fiction and
verification to a dream. These conclusions are akin to the
hypothesis that the early chapters of Genesis were simply
efforts to account for the existence of life, death, and sin :
not historical, but poetical, after the fashion of Paradise Lost
or Prometheus Unbound. If such be the case, many difficul-
ties disappear, but with them also much beauty, suggestive-
ness, and satisfaction, and the very spirit of ingenuity withers
away. I have said this already, but it is worth keeping in
mind. I do not know that Cinderella actually put her foot
into the glass slipper, only I do feel that she was a goodly
damsel and deserved her good luck.

Gloom and despair, then, had settled down on Compostella,
and St. James was as though he were not, and the causes

168 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

thereof may have been as legend affirms. I am not sure ;
nor do I care to be sure. The picture is evident enough.
For the nonce Galicia felt that it was lost. And though
personally I know nothing, yet I had rather enter into that
darkness and pass to its farthest bounds with a brave poet
who can dream dreams and give life to the invisible, than
journey with a timid, trembling critic who is afraid of his
own soul, and perhaps doubts if he has one.

CHAPTER XIV

THE GLORIFICATION

MONTAIGNE declares that miracles are according to the
ignorance wherein we are by nature, and not according to
nature's essence ; and by that he implies that familiarity
is likely to destroy the perceptibility of miracles. In other
words, a miracle depends on the individual who perceives it
rather than on itself or its own act. Any phenomenon
unknown to us, suddenly and unexpectedly presented to us
for the first time, we consider a wonder. Were we used to
such phenomena, it would lose its miraculous nature. It is
probable that had we conversance and intimacy with St.
James such as the Spanish people enjoyed in the tenth and
eleventh centuries, we should not be astonished at the
prodigies he wrought. They would not indeed be prodigies.
We should think no more of them than we do of fish swim-
ming up stream or of the bursting out in the spring of buds
in bushes or songs in birds. I confess that when I read the
' miracles ' recorded of St. James in the Acta Sanctorum or in
the Golden Legend, so industriously catalogued by Professor
King, I lose all sense of their nature, and think of them as
ordinary, commonplace, prosaic incidents. The Apostle did
such things as a matter of course. I do not wonder at
him ; nor do I wonder at them. Such was his business :
the purpose for which he was in the world. Were I told
that Dr. Johnson had done the like, I should doubt it ; and
were it said that Herbert Spencer had performed the same
feats, I should deny it. I cannot associate these modern
scholars with such exploits ; but I have no such difficulty
over St. James the Great of Compostella.

To say the least, this frame of mind is fortunate. It at
once puts me into sympathy with the people of those distant
times. Nature herself is of no consequence. Properly
speaking, she has nothing to do with a miracle. Indeed,
she may never have done one in the untold ages since she
began to work, unless she brought herself into being, and
were that so I should be too astonished to believe it. I

169

170 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

should at once assure myself that she started out with a lie ;
and that is not possible. I cannot imagine a thing which
does not exist, and therefore is not even a thing, causing
itself to come into being, or bringing anything else into being.
When modern philosophers tell me it is possible that creation
was its own creator, I wonder if the mediaeval discoverers
of legends strayed any farther from the truth, or if they were
more credulous.

But the inability of nature does not imply the inability
of man. He may see that which nature has no eyes for. In
days gone by he saw these wonders ; and they ceased to be
wonders because he saw them again and again. And the
most miraculous thing of all, more remarkable than the acts
themselves, he believed in them, and so believed in them that
he became unconscious of the exercise of faith. He reflected
no more on the difficulty or magnitude of the event than you
do over the odds and ends of news you read in your morning
journal. It was no surprise to the people of 1104 that a
pilgrim who fell overboard on his way from Jerusalem was
enabled by St. James to swim three days and nights after
his ship till he was heard and taken on board. Nor were
they astonished that, in response to appeals made to him,
the Apostle not infrequently made soldiers, who had been
condemned to be beheaded for his sake, impenetrable, neck
and belly. Such interpositions of saintly succour were not
so rare as to occasion more than gratitude. No one wondered
at them enough to doubt them.

Here, again, we have a miracle told which reminds us of
the story of the Three Hebrew Children in Nebuchadnezzar's
Burning Fiery Furnace. If the one be true, physically and
not merely allegorically, there is no reason why the other
should not be in the same sense true. Only, there is a sus-
picion that the young man in the Jacobean miracle was not
as free from blame as the Jewish heroes immortalized by
Daniel. He suffered, or rather escaped suffering, in the year
1238, at a castle named Prato, between Florence and Pistoja,
in Italy. The village is still on the map. There were relics
of St. James in the latter place, and the city had close rela-
tions with Compostella. The young man had set fire to a
field of corn, and was sentenced to be drawn and burnt.
He confessed his crime, and avowed himself a disciple of
St. James ; and St. James stood by him. Thus the old
chronicle runs :

' And when he had been long drawn in his shirt upon a

THE GLORIFICATION 171

stony way, he was neither hurt in his body nor in his shirt.
Then he was bound to a stake, and faggots and bushes were
set about him, and fire put thereto, which fire burnt at his
bonds, and he always called on St. James, and there was no
hurt of burning found in his shirt nor in his body, and when
they would have cast him again into the fire, he was taken
away from them by St. James, the apostle of God, to whom be
given laud and praising.'

Do not marvel at such recitals. They are remarkable,
but not extraordinary. Thus these hundreds of years since,
when Louis the Sixth was king of France, devout and honest
folk heard that Count William of Poitiers, while on a pil-
grimage to Compostella with his wife and two little children,
fell into sore distress. At Pamplona the countess died,
and the host at the inn robbed the count even of the horse
that carried the children. It looked as though the journey
were at an end. But a special providence watched over the
little company. They met a good old man with an excel-
lent donkey, and thus they reached the haven where they
would be. When they got back to Pamplona they found
probably much to your astonishment, but no one wondered
at it then that the innkeeper had been hanged, as he
deserved to be, and that the old man they had met by the
way was St. James, and the ass was an angel.

Undoubtedly these achievements supported the claims of
St. James. They testified alike to his integrity and his power.
They helped to prove the truth of his discovery and to extol
the wisdom of his Translation. They gave certainty where
argument would have engendered doubt. Nor, with such a
saint as patron and protector of Galicia, was it possible for
the devastation caused by Almanzor and his Moors to remain
either unavenged or unrestored. The re-building came on
apace. Never again did the misbeliever overrun the country.
The Apostle came into his own once more. The glory of the
former city and sanctuary increased manifold. We shall
see more of this as we go on with our story.

Only, somewhere in the Anatomy of Melancholy, Robert
Burton quotes a Latin author as saying, ' I will act bonafide :
know that none of the things which I am going to write are
true. I am going to speak of what never took place, nor
ever will take place, just out of ingenuity, to keep my hand
in.' If an application of such an utterance should be made
here, there is enough to give one pause ; and, indeed, to
steep one in doubt, for close by another Latin scholar,

172 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

venturing to describe his visit to the moon, says : ' I shall
explain this night's transactions in the kingdom of the moon,
a place where no one has yet arrived, save in his dreams.'
We must not look for such equivocations in the theologasters
who dealt with the life and works of Santiago : or we shall
make no headway. Let us move on in the best of faith.

The crowning manifestation of the strength and character
of the Apostle of Compostella, in worth and renown far
exceeding all other wonders recorded of him, and which once
and for all made him patron of Spain and exalted him among
the military saints of heaven, a soldier verily after Arch-
bishop Turpin's own heart, happened at the battle of Clavijo,
in the Rioja near Najera, about the year 845, not so many
years after the finding of his body at Iria Flavia. Thus
early did St. James show himself after his long sleep ; and
to this event is largely due the devotion given him by the
princes and people of Galicia, and the envy and hatred
entertained towards him by the Moors.

At this time the country was in as perplexing discomfort
as ever. The noble Alfonso died in 842, and his successor,
Ramiro I., as we have already stated, had not only to sup-
press an insurrection brought about by rivals to the throne,
and to repel an attack by Norman pirates, but also to contend
with the impatient and aggressive Moslems. His reign of
seven or eight years, however, seems to have been rather
insignificant and to have called for little consideration by
his contemporaries : that is to say, regarded from a historical
point of view. But in the thirteenth century Archbishop
Roderigo Ximenez of Toledo, in his History of the Barbarians,
told, apparently for the first time, of the operations of
Ramiro I. against the Moors, and of the marvellous battle of
Clavijo. The archbishop's story, palpitating with piety and
patriotism, and abounding in details of valour and victory,
was freely expanded by Juan de Mariana, a learned Jesuit,
in the beginning of the seventeenth century. Mariana's
Historiae de rebus Hispaniae, the Encyclopaedia Britannica
says, ' though in many parts uncritical, is justly esteemed
for its research, accuracy, sagacity, and style.' We have
therefore decided advantages in considering a campaign of
which no contemporary account exists.

According to the story thus handed down to us, notwith-
standing the apparent peace, the kingdom of the Asturias
had been reduced by the Moslems to a desperate condition.
The Spaniards had resisted strenuously, but the chances

THE GLORIFICATION 173

were against them. At last they confronted a vast army
of Moors gathered near the city of Najera, in the district
known as the Rioja, not far from the western bank of the
Ebro. In the very agony and anticipation of defeat, King
Ramiro fell into a deep sleep, and in a vision St. James
appeared to him and assured him of victory. Refreshed
and cheered, the king made known to his followers this
celestial revelation. They united in prayer, and then rushed
upon the foe with spear and sword, shouting the war-cry,
' Santiago ! y cierra, Espafia ! ' ' Saint James ! and close up,
Spain ! ' This was but the beginning of the triumph over
the doomed infidels. In the heavens, at the head of the
Christian legions, leading them on, appeared the Apostle in
resplendent armour, mounted on a white horse, and bearing
in one hand a snow-white banner, on which was displayed
a blood-red cross, and in the other a flashing sword. Then
followed a mighty slaughter. Single-handed St. James him-
self killed sixty thousand Arabs, some say seventy thousand.
Possibly the sanguinary and saintly knight was not entirely
single-handed. Others may have helped, but when the
struggle came to an end, the battle of Clavijo had redeemed
the fortunes of Spain.

Never did earth see a more noble or astounding victory.
The gratitude of Ramiro and his warriors to St. James for
his having directed the fight and increased the butchery
was practically unbounded. Mariana says : ' This battle
was fought in the year 846, being the second of King Ramiro.
The victorious army, in gratitude to God for the divine aid,
vowed to Santiago, under whose leadership the victory had
been obtained, that all Spain should henceforth be tributary
to the church of Compostella ; and that every acre of
ploughed and vine land should pay each year a bushel of
corn or wine to that church.' More than this. The king
ordained that ' when any booty was divided St. James was
to have his share as a horseman.'

It is said that no sooner does a lamb fall in the wilderness,
than a vulture comes to devour it. That is what the critics
have done with this story. Nothing could have better dis-
played the courage and chivalry of the Apostle. His glory
as he rides majestically to the battle, and the triumph which
awaited him there, thrill one's very soul. One feels that St.
James had not lived in vain, nor slept in vain. Then the
iconoclast draws near. Winter comes at once. The streams
of imagination are frozen. Beauty drops like dead bark from

174 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

the trees. We are told that there never was a battle or a
victory of Clavijo. The historians solemnly assure us that
the legend was a pure invention, perhaps either to account
for the origin and obligation of the tribute paid to the church
at Compostella, or to supply an argument for the foundation
of the Order of St. James of the Sword. When the tribute
began no man remembers ; but the Order was not established
till towards the end of the twelfth century, and till then no
one had heard of the victory of Ramiro at Clavijo.

So the dream vanishes away. And the historians do not
trouble themselves to explain the scallop shells which were
picked up in abundance on the field of battle. It matters
but little. For at the battle of Simancas, July 19, 939, the
Apostle again appeared, this time with mitre and crosier,
and accompanied by St. Millan: co-patriots of Spain and
Knights of God, the two together as Professor King trans-
lates Gonzalo de Berceo :

' White horsemen who ride on white horses, O fair to see,
They ride where the rivers of Paradise flash and flow.'

And the Moors were slaughtered with a great slaughter.
Even were this apparition disputed, there are in all thirty-
eight apparitions to be accounted for. Nor has he appeared
only in Spain. At subsequent times he has been seen fighting
in Flanders, in Italy, in India, and even in America. A
veritable child of the thunderstorm, the Apostle had no
equal on the battlefields of his country. Like St. Martin of
Tours and St. George of England and other saintly military
commanders, he generally appeared on horseback : fierce as
the west wind, swift as the lightning's flash, terrible as St.
Michael in his conflict with Satan.

Nor were appearances of heavenly beings, either in the sky
or elsewhere, regarded as extraordinary : rare, perhaps, but
not unheard of. The angel of the Lord went before the
camp of Israel at the time of the Exodus ; and in the punish-
ment which followed the taking of the census, David saw
the angel which smote with death the seventy thousand of
his people. In the ages of which we are writing no one
doubted such manifestations : not even of Christ Himself.
Under the year 1224, Matthew Paris, speaking of the multi-
tudes in England who about that time took the cross and
went to the Holy Land, says : ' On Mid-somer night the Lord
appeared in the Firmament, in crucified forme and bloudy,
to shew how acceptable that devotion was to him.' He tells

THE GLORIFICATION 175

this on the lone testimony of a fishmonger who lived near
Uxbridge. No one else seems to have seen this vision, but,
when you come to think of it, a fishmonger's word is as good
as the word of any other man.

The Apostle of Compostella, however, though he ranked
as patron and metropolitan of all Spain, was not the only
heavenly knight who appeared in behalf of the Spanish
people. At the great fight on the plain of Alcoraz in 1096,
where Peter of Aragon was pitted against the Moors of
Saragossa, St. George appeared in the vanguard of the Chris-
tian chivalry, and secured the defeat of the foe. Thus St.
George became patron saint of Aragon, and in the arms of
that kingdom, to this day, appears his cross. Some authori-
ties hold that he suffered martyrdom in Aragon ; but we
cannot here tell his story, or trace his connection with
England. Much less should we care to account for his
relics. One of his heads was found at Rome in 751, and in
1600 was given to the church at Ferrara. Another head is
said to be in Picardy. One of his arms fell from heaven on
an altar in Cologne ; another, in the ninth century, reached
the church at Cambrai ; and three pieces of his third arm
were deposited, one each, in as many different places.
Neither England nor Aragon, nor even Portugal, of which
three countries he held tutelage, succeeded in obtaining a
bit of him. Nor yet Genoa or Venice, which were also under
his protection. But no one seems to have doubted that he
fought in the skies for any and all of his favourite lands that
needed him.

And, again, as everybody knows, St. George made good
his interest in the well-being of his adherents in modern
times, say, in the late days of August 1914, in the neighbour-
hood of Mons. The French were protected by St. Joan of
Arc and St. Michael the Archangel, who appeared to them
again and again, and both encouraged them and led them on
to victory ; and St. George, with other heavenly warriors,
looked after his poor English. As the stars in their courses
fought against Sisera, so did the celestial princes withstand the
enemies of their people. The Germans had no such visions,
which of itself showed that they were Heaven-forsaken.

One night, when the fortunes of the allies were at a low
ebb, there rose over the adversary a thin yellow mist, and
out of the mist came a tall knight with yellow hair and golden
armour and long loose-hanging garment of a brilliant tint.
The English soldiers knew it was St. George because they

176 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

had seen his figure on the gold coin of the realm. He was
seated on a white horse, waving his sword as if in command,
and appeared to be calling with all his might to the British
forces, ' Come on ! Come on ! ' On either side of him rode
other figures ; and beneath them shone a bright star, which
afterwards, when the apparitions had disappeared, was
recognized as the Morning Star. For three-quarters of an
hour men beheld this vision. One spectator timed it exactly
as lasting thirty-five minutes. Some witnesses, who testified
to the reality of the phenomenon, said the men stood quiet
and still. They did not know what to make of it. At last
one called out, ' God is with us ! ' Then, when they were
falling in for the march, the captain of one company repeated
what other officers were saying on every side : ' Well, men,
we can cheer up now : we Ve got Some One with us ! '
That night over thirty miles were done. An officer, who is
described as 'a distinguished lieutenant-colonel,' tells of
other supernatural occurrences which he witnessed during
the retreat in the night of August 27, as he was riding along
with two other officers :

* As we rode along I became conscious of the fact that, in
the fields on both sides of the road along which we were
marching, I could see a very large body of horsemen. These
horsemen had the appearance of squadrons of cavalry, and
they seemed to be riding across the fields and going in the
same direction as we were going, and keeping level with us.
The night was not very dark, and I fancied that I could see
squadron upon squadron of these cavalrymen quite distinctly.
I did not say a word about it at first, but I watched them for
about twenty minutes. The other two officers had stopped
talking. At last one of them asked me if I saw anything in
the fields. I then told him what I had seen. The third
officer then confessed that he too had been watching these
horsemen for the past twenty minutes. So convinced were
we that they were really cavalry that, at the next halt, one
of the officers took a party of men out to reconnoitre, and
found no one there. The night then grew darker, and we
saw no more.

' The same phenomenon was seen by many men in our
column. Of course, we were all dog-tired and overtaxed,
but it is an extraordinary thing that the same phenomenon
should be witnessed by so many different people. I myself
am absolutely convinced that I saw these horsemen ; and I
feel sure that they did not exist only in my imagination. I

THE GLORIFICATION 177

do not attempt to explain the mystery I only state
facts.'

The testimony as to these appearances was abundant
enough, though, to be sure, one would like to have had the
name of that lieutenant-colonel, and some independent
attestations of his fellow-officers and men. On the other
hand, an imaginative newspaper-man claimed that before
the experiences happened, he had written a story in which
he had sketched appearances of bowmen on the battlefield,
unearthly and weird, and that his story had been the founda-
tion of the reports of the angels of Mons. The Encyclopaedia
Britannica dismisses the story of the appearances as fiction
taken as fact. But it is not likely that many men in the
army, either French or English, ever read or heard of the
fiction. Indeed, it is doubtful if the fiction was in print
till after some of these appearances had been made known.
Nor, if the appearances are to be ascribed to natural causes,
is it necessary to suppose that the men who said they saw
the apparitions owed their experience to anything outside of
themselves. Their own mental and physical condition,
weary, depressed, discouraged, fearing defeat, disposed them
sufficiently to hallucinations, if as such the appearances have
to be taken. But whether such or not, the appearances were
none the less real and objective to those who saw them.
They were in no frame of mind to consider whether the vision
they beheld was of their own creation, or came into being
independently of them altogether. Such subtleties were
beyond them.

Only, of this we may be fairly sure : that whichever
explanation may be taken, the same phenomenon occurred
at Mons which occurred so many centuries since on the fields
of Spain. The English at Mons beheld St. George as the
Spanish at Alcoraz saw him, and at Simancas saw both St.
James and St. Milan. The men of the twentieth century
and the men of the twelfth century had the like gift of seeing
supernatural phenomena : or they assumed they had, which
is not far from being the same thing. And in all the instances
alleged the same result followed : the depressed were up-
lifted, the discouraged were given hope, the weak were made
strong. As in the earlier centuries, so in the later, whatever
may have been the true nature of the cause, the effect
differed not. The armies went on from vision to victory.

There were, of course, unbelievers in those far-off days.
Scepticism is no new quality. If a man did not like St.

M

178 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

James, he would be inclined to repudiate both the appear-
ances and the miracles of St. James. Sometimes such
objectors held to their opinions, even in spite of the efforts
of their friends and well-wishers to convince them either by
persuasion or force, and not a few died rather than change
their mind ; but it is pleasing to know that others were
graciously and miraculously brought to repent themselves
of conclusions so far from the truth. A delightful instance
of this is given in the Chronicle of the Gid, which ought to
be sufficient to affect the most obdurate, and which probably
dates from the twelfth century. As one reads it, one scarcely
knows which to admire most : the consideration of the
Apostle or the open-heartedness of the bishop. After its
careful perusal, doubt seems almost out of reach.

Coimbra had long been a stronghold of the Moors, and
about 1063 the Christian inhabitants thereof sent an urgent
appeal to Ferdinand I., who then held the united kingdoms
of Leon and Castile, to come to their deliverance. The king,
backed by the youthful and impetuous Cid, E/odrigo Diaz de
Bivar, determined to listen to the cry and to free the city.
The Cid assured him of success, and expressed the hope that
in Coimbra he should receive knighthood at his hands.
Destined to become the scourge of the enemies of his country,
its mightiest and most famous hero, and recognized even by
the Moors themselves as ' one of the marvels of the Lord,'
Rodrigo had already aroused the envy and opposition of his
fellow-chieftains. This of itself indicated the strength of
his influence. But failure never came to the side he espoused.
Ferdinand followed his counsel. And in compliance with
that counsel, to prepare himself for the enterprise and to
induce God to fulfil his desire, the king made a pilgrimage to
Compostella, and remained there three days and nights in
prayer, offering great gifts, and taking upon himself great
d.evotion.

With the help of St. James he gathered together a great
host, and in January 1064 he marched over the mountains
and laid siege to Coimbra. For five months he fought and
planned in vain. Then his supplies began to fail him, and
he decided to return to Leon. But before he retreated, St.
James came to the rescue. The chronicle says that in the
hour when all seemed lost, food was secured ; and, fed and
refreshed, the besieging force renewed their efforts, brought
their engines to bear more vigorously on every part of the
wall, and perplexed and daunted the enemy. In a week's

THE GLORIFICATION 179

time the Moors offered to surrender the city, asking for
nothing but their lives. The king granted their prayer, and
on a Sunday at the hour of tierce the gates were open to
him. So far so good : only, St. James had a part in the
success which must not be forgotten. Thus runs Robert
Southey's translation of the legend :

'Now it came to pass that while the King lay before
Coimbra, there came a pilgrim from the land of Greece on
pilgrimage to Santiago ; his name was Estiano, and he was
a Bishop. And as he was praying in the church he heard
certain of the townsmen and of the pilgrims saying that
Santiago was wont to appear in battle like a knight, in aid
of the Christians. And when he heard this it nothing pleased
him, and he said unto them, Friends, call him no;b a knight,
but rather a fisherman. Upon this it pleased God that he
should fall asleep, and in his sleep Santiago appeared to
him with a good and cheerful countenance, holding in his
hand a bunch of keys, and said unto him, Thou thinkest it
a fable that they should call me a knight, and sayest that I
am not so : for this reason am I come unto thee that thou
never more mayest doubt concerning my knighthood ; for
a knight of Jesus Christ I am, and a helper of the Christians
against the Moors. While he was thus saying a horse was
brought him the which was exceeding white, and the Apostle
Santiago mounted upon it, being well clad in bright and fair
armour, after the manner of a knight. And he said to
Estiano, I go to help King Don Ferrando who has lain these
seven months before Coimbra, and to-morrow, with these
keys which thou seest, will I open the gates of the city unto
him at the hour of tierce, and deliver it into his hand.
Having said this he departed. And the Bishop when he
awoke in the morning called together the clergy and people
of Compostella, and told them what he had seen and heard.
And as he said, even so did it come to pass ; for tidings came
that on that day, and at the hour of tierce, the gates of the
city had been opened.'

Not only did the king confer knighthood on Rodrigo of
Bivar, and commit Coimbra to the keeping of Don Sisnando,
bishop of Iria, but he also went to Compostella to return
thanks to Santiago. By the way, just here, the chronicle
tells some scandal about Bishop Sisnando, whose name is
not unknown to us. Having more hardihood than religion,
says the record, he had by reason of his misdeeds gone over
to the Moors, and sorely annoyed the Christians in Portugal.

180 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

But during the siege he had come to the king's service, and
bestirred himself well against the Moors ; and therefore the
king took him. into his favour, and gave him the city to keep,
which he kept, and did much evil to the Moors till the day
of his death.

Now, whether the appearances of St. James as the warrior
knight of Spain were real or not ; or, to put it another way,
whether a critical and sceptical scholar of these modern
times would have really seen the Apostle in the heavens, or
would have dismissed the supposition as pure fiction : it is
certain that as time went on the Spanish people believed
heart and soul that St. James had appeared and had fought
for them. There is no gainsaying their faith. And there is
no gainsaying the effect of that faith on them. Not only
was St. James accepted everywhere as the patron saint of
Spain, but one of the most celebrated orders of knighthood
was founded to commemorate his life and deeds.

The exact date of the institution of the Knights of San-
tiago de Espada or the Knights of St. James of Compostella
is uncertain. Tradition gives the honour to Ramiro n.,
king of Leon, immediately after the battle of Clavijo ; but
Burke, in his History of Spain, holds that it came into
existence about the year 1161, in the reorganization of a
band of outlaws who had infested the territories of Leon.
This band, probably under compulsion, offered its services
to Ferdinand n. 3 king of Leon, and he recognized its members
as faithful subjects, and their company as a loyal and knightly
corporation of defenders of the faith and destroyers of the
infidel. The new society reflected the spirit of the age, not
only ideally, but actually and practically. It afforded an
outlet for the turbulence and restlessness which everywhere
prevailed. The people had indeed to recover the country of
their fathers from a conqueror foreign to them both in race
and religion. They were brave and proud. War became
their business, amusement, passion. So impatient and im-
pulsive were they, so fierce, determined, and volcanic, that
at one time knights, nobles, and kings never slept without
having the warhorse ready saddled in the chamber. Soldiers
declared that they led a life like demons, like spirits in hell,
who rest neither day nor night, and whose chief joy is in
separating soul from body. Here, then, sprang into being
an Order ready to further to the utmost the dominating
excitement. So successful were its members in harrying
the unbeliever, that, in 1172, the archbishop of Santiago

THE GLORIFICATION 181

proclaimed himself their spiritual chief, and the company
was formally incorporated under the Banner, Insignia, and
Invocation of St. James.

Its first rule, largely based on the mild precepts of the
canons of St. Augustine, seems to have been drawn up by
Cardinal Giacinto Bobo, the papal legate, afterwards, at the
age of eighty-five, in 1191, made Pope under the name of
Celestine m. At his instigation, on July 5, 1175, still in the
reign of Ferdinand n., Pope Alexander m. confirmed the
establishment of the Order. Its ideal was that of the
Knights Templars. Besides the redemption of Spain from the
Moors, it undertook to protect pilgrims on their way to and
from Compostella. The motto of the Order was ' Rubet
ensis sanguine Arabum ' ' Red is the sword with the blood
of the Moors ' ; and the badge is a blood-red sword in the
form of a cross, charged, as heralds term it, with a white
scallop-shell. To a master and a council of thirteen knights
was entrusted the government of the Order. No local
bishop had any jurisdiction therein. ' The knights were to
be of pure Christian blood, untainted by any Jewish or
Moorish ancestry ; and were to assert their belief in the
Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin.' The right
to marry was accorded the knights from the first ; and till
the end of the Middle Ages it was the only Order having such
right. The first grand master, Pedro Fernandez de Fuente
Encalatro, died in 1184.

The Order attained to great honour, reputation, and
wealth. Burke says that ' at the end of the fifteenth cen-
tury Santiago possessed no less than two hundred comman-
deries, with as many priories, and an immense number of
castles and villages, together with movable and immovable
property of every description.' In 1493 the grand master-
ship fell to Ferdinand the Catholic, and in 1544 Pope
Adrian vi. vested that office permanently in the crown of
Spain. St. James maintained his popularity through the
centuries. As the worthy Don Quixote said, when he
beheld the image of the patron of Spain on horseback,
trampling on Moors and treading upon heads, sword all
bloody : ' Ay, marry, this is a knight indeed, one of Christ's
own squadron. He is called Don Saint James the Moor-
killer, one of the most valiant saints and knights the world
had formerly, or heaven has now.'

Again one ponders over the honours heaped upon St.
James. That he was worthy of such glorification, few who

182 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

remember the wonders attributed to him will deny. The
mother of Zebedee's sons had her prayer granted : in that
then world-wide kingdom over which Jesus was exalted
King, St. John rested in the far east and St. James in the far
west. The story grows in wonder as it grows in interest.
Now we see St. James with the net across his shoulders ;
now with the gold and scarlet robe a peasant yesterday
and a prince to-day ! The martyr has become the master
of a mighty people, and no meridian sun can dim the bright-
ness of his sword, or cold unbelief chill the warmth of his
glory.

And Gibbon, who loved not Christian saints or Christian
story, thus tells of the exaltation of the Apostle :

' A stupendous metamorphosis was performed in the
ninth century, when from a peaceful fisherman of the lake
of Gennesareth, the Apostle James was transformed into a
valorous knight, who charged at the head of Spanish chivalry
in battles against the Moors. The gravest historians have
celebrated his exploits ; the miraculous shrine of Compo-
stella displayed his power ; and the sword of a military order,
assisted by the terrors of the Inquisition, was sufficient to
remove every objection of profane criticism.'

CHAPTER XV

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM

To one man is due, not so much the foundation as the
development of Compostella. Even though others created
much of the material, and others helped in the disposition
and arrangement of that material, yet his was the master
mind that directed the construction and gave form, not
only to the city itself, but also to the cult of St. James. He
it was who made St. James the purpose and pride of Com-
postella. He it was who took the legends which spoke of
Compostella as the outcome of the discovery of the body of
the Apostle, as, indeed, brought into being solely to afford
that Apostle shelter and sanctuary, and reversed the process.
He saw Compostella first, and St. James afterwards. The
comparison lay between Iria Flavia, the old town near the
sea, buried as it were out of sight, and the new town high
on the hillside, overlooking a valley and landscapes of com-
manding beauty, and possessing a site on which walls and
domes and towers could be seen in all their splendour from
afar. Such a town was better fitted for the seat of a bishop,
and much more suitable as the centre of an archbishopric,
than the ancient, worn-out, and obscure Iria. Instead of
wharves and the smell of ships and fish, the new city could
have palaces and gardens and parks in which art could com-
bine with nature in happiest guise, and flowers display their
loveliness and exhale their exquisite fragrance. Not, to be
sure, that Compostella could ever become a second Cordoba,
or like unto Toledo or Seville, but it should be a city of which
Galicia could be proud, and which would delight the stranger
from distant lands.

In the building up of such a city, and in gathering to it
an importance and a dignity which would become it, St.
James was of untold worth. None could be more service-
able then he, or more responsive to the wishes of those who
resorted to him. The place did not exist for him, but he
for the place. He made it ; it did not make him.

The man to whom I refer, and to whom Compostella owes

183

184 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

so much, and perhaps St. James even more, was Don Diego
Gelmirez.

But before we say aught further of him, or of his remark-
able, ambitious, and eventful life, we shall briefly tell the
story of the efforts to lift the country out of the desolation
brought about by Almanzor and his Moors. We have
already spoken of the ruin and sadness. Compostella and
the greater part of Galicia had suffered to the uttermost.
And soon after doing all the damage that lay in his power,
Almanzor went the way of all flesh, and writers who did not
love him said that, ' when he died, the Devil was heard
bewailing him along the banks of the Guadalquivir.' In
Satan's sorrow lay Galicia's salvation. Almanzor was the
last Moorish chieftain to put foot in the north-western
country. The Gallegans were free to undertake the rebuild-
ing of their towns and the reconsecration of their shrines.

The ravages done by the invaders, even though they may
not have been so extensive or thorough as the Moorish
chroniclers would have us believe, undoubtedly helped to
deepen the impression prevailing generally throughout
Christendom, that the end of the world would coincide with
the close of the first Christian millennium. Everywhere
people felt that in the decrease of love and the growth of
iniquity, perilous times were at hand for men's souls. Evils
of all sorts became more rampant. A contemporary writer,
reviewing conditions, asks : ' What then can we think but
that the whole human race, root and branch, is sliding will-
ingly down again into the gulf of primeval chaos ? ' Not only
was Galicia and north-western Spain overswept by the
adversary, but, in the decade immediately before the Thou-
sand Years ended, Vesuvius, also called Vulcan's Cauldron,
became more restless than usual hell was being stirred up ;
Rome and many cities of Gaul were devastated by fire ; and
famines and plagues of extraordinary virulence afflicted
large parts of Europe.

It is possible that the gloom and depression have been
exaggerated ; and it is also possible that in Galicia, where
everything seems to have been brought to a standstill by
the raids of Almanzor, the people thought little of the fate
of the world at large ; but we can imagine that even at
Compostella, when the century came nearer its close, and it
was felt that the worst that could happen had happened, a
reaction set in. Hope sprang again into life and vigour.
The days of man's greatest need are the days of his most

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 185

determined endeavour. The winter, black and deadly, had
gone, and a spring came the like of which for widespread
activity and regenerating effort the world had seldom seen.
In the heart of a cowed and fearful people encouragement
grew by leaps and bounds. The delving and the digging
began. The broken walls were cleared away; and in an
incredibly short time the charred and unsightly countryside
disappeared, and towns and villages, houses and churches,
once more told of prosperity and happiness.

Elsewhere in Europe, and it may have been also the case
in Galicia, another emotion came into play. Though the
thought of the near approach of the end of the first Christian
millennium caused much apprehension and dread, it also
begot in many minds and hearts a feeling of the necessity for
preparation. The Church must make ready for the coming
of her Lord. Christian folk everywhere began to trim their
lamps. First they determined that all Jews should either
be baptized or be driven forth from their lands or cities ;
and, if they would not receive baptism, they robbed and
killed them freely and without compunction. Then they
repaired and improved their cathedrals, sanctuaries, monas-
teries, and other holy places. So thoroughly did they work,
that a Cluniac chronicler, Ralph Glauber, says, ' It was as
though the very world had shaken herself and cast off her
old age, and were clothing herself everywhere in a white
garment of churches.'

More than this : in these days of preparation for the
thousandth year, and soon afterwards perhaps as a help
against the recklessness of living which set in worse than
ever when men realized that the Second Advent had not
occurred we are told that ' the relics of very many saints,
which had long lain hid, were revealed by divers proofs and
testimonies ; for these, as if to decorate this revival, revealed
themselves by God's will to the eyes of the faithful, to whose
minds also they brought much consolation.' The good
Cluniac recorder does not say anything about the discoveries
at Iria or Compostella ; but he is happy in telling us that at
the church of the blessed Stephen, in the city of Sens in
Gaul, among other certain marvellous relics of ancient holy
things, was found a part of Moses' rod the rod, it should
be observed, which once became a serpent and swallowed
the other serpents made out of their rods by Pharaoh's
magicians ; the same rod which Moses used when the Red
Sea overwhelmed the Egyptian hosts. Many pilgrims im-

186 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

mediately resorted to Sens ; but, while Moses' rod and the
other relics made not a few sick folk whole and sound,
the effect was not altogether helpful to the inhabitants of
Sens. In return for so great benefits, we are informed, they
contracted an excessive insolence. The prosperity puffed
them up.

It so chanced that in these days, from 986 to 1000, St.
Pedro Mozoncio was bishop of Iria, and to him, under the
direction of King Bermudo n., fell the difficult labour of
beginning the restoration of the shrine and church of St.
James at Compostella. Of a wealthy and noble Asturian
family, long famed for its interest in the foundation and
endowment of churches, and having been abbot of Anteal-
tares before his election to the bishopric, he devoted himself
and his influence to his office, apparently without stint or
hesitation. His energy and his vision were more than
ordinary. With a saintliness of life and thorough business
capacity, he combined the gifts of a poet. Perhaps he is
best known as the author of Salve Eegina, which Mrs.
Gallichan regards as ' the most beautiful of all Catholic
prayers.' He came under the influence of Cluny, which,
founded in 910, had in 918 built a church, after the style
of which Mozoncio designed the restored church at Compo-
stella. The church at Cluny was not the famous basilica,
which, begun in 1089, and consecrated in 1131, was, until
the building of the present St. Peter's, the largest church in
Christendom. Nor was the church at Compostella restored
by Bishop Mozoncio the building in which the relics of
St. James were finally deposited. Towers were added by
Bishop Cresconio, who held the see from 1048 to 1066, but
before the end of the century the church was found to
be too small for its purpose, and a much larger and more
elaborate structure loomed amid the clouds of the near
future.

It is probable that in the years which immediately pre-
ceded or followed the end of the first Christian millennium,
no part of Spain was more heartily and thoroughly Spanish
than this north-western country. Not only was it the sanc-
tuary of Spain's tutelary saint, whose historical fame and
supernatural beneficence were now advancing by rapid
strides, but it had been peopled by patriots and loyalists,
soldiers, churchmen, and nobles, who had drifted here from
regions more decisively occupied by the Moors. The tone
and temper of the inhabitants may be expressed by the slogan,

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 187

the like of which, has been used elsewhere to denote ex-
clusiveness, ' Spain for the Spaniards ! ' Against that
spirit, however, arose influences of a contrary nature. For
the twelve years preceding 1085, Gregory vn., perhaps better
remembered as Hildebrand, had occupied the chair of St.
Peter, and mightier man than he never obtained mastery.
The magnitude of his claims and the magnificence of his
vision, supported by his indomitable will and carried out
with uninterrupted success, brought kings and princes to
his footstool, and compelled nations to do his bidding.
The papacy had now well launched its purpose of temporal
aggrandisement. It not only designed supremacy in matters
spiritual, but had also determined on sovereignty in matters
political, social, and national. The kingdom of God, of
which it was on earth the representative and expression,
should affect every department of life ; and, even as the
Pope was the vicegerent of Christ, and held in his hands the
keys of heaven, so should the See of St. Peter be the centre
of Christendom and the arbiter of the world. The Pope
should be in reality .the spokesman of God on earth.

They err who suppose that this purpose or policy sprang
out of personal ambition or pride. The condition of the
times gave it being and made it necessary. The welding of
the fragments of the old Roman empire into kingdoms and
the amalgamation of races into nations, to say nothing of
the overshadowing peril of Mohammedanism, demanded some
central and controlling authority. Thus only could unity
and peace be reached and maintained. The Pope had no
alternative. A force which he had no strength to resist,
even had he been so minded, compelled him to advance
claims unknown and unneeded in earlier ages. The in-
dividual pontiff was inevitably and unavoidably the creation
of his times. He had no possible way of escape. It was not
Rome, nor the desire of its pontiffs for superiority or dis-
tinction, that made the papacy nor, if I may dare venture
so to conjecture, altogether the words of Christ to St. Peter.
Out of the depths of the ages of misery, the storms of distress
and strife, and the anguish of pain and blood, arose the cry
for help. God heard the cry ; and men rallied to the hope
created for them. Inspired by the Almighty and driven by
dire need, Europe made that which the popes could never
have made for themselves a voice for righteousness and
justice in a wilderness of wrong, and a supremacy over
divided and distracted kings and over nations rent and torn.

188 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

And through those centuries of confusion and conflict, the
papacy stood firm and unyielding, God's instrumentality
for bringing order out of chaos, till the storms weakened
and became less frequent, and modern Europe formed its
kingdoms, definite, prosperous, and strong. It is not for
me to say that that mission of the papacy is no longer
necessary. All that I affirm is that nine hundred and more
years back in history it was a necessity.

On the other hand, there are ever in the world men, and
multitudes of men, who prefer individuality to unity.
Indeed, the two elements cannot resist warring with each
other. It is the age-long strife between selfishness and
sacrifice ; and it is the function of reconciliation to show
that selfishness is best served by sacrifice, and that sacrifice
can be the means of securing the advantages involved in a
righteous and divine selfishness. I do not use the word
' selfishness ' in its bad sense ; but as conveniently standing
for that care of self which is laid on us as a duty, and which
concerns personality. It is possible that in the ages of which
I am speaking reconciliation did its best, kindly as well as
earnestly ; but, as a matter of fact, perhaps unconsciously
following the bent of some other nations, the people of north-
western Spain resented interference from outside. They
had rather be governed by their own princes than by princes
either of foreign origin or under foreign influence. At all
events, under native and independent rulers, their troubles
and mistakes were their own. They made them themselves
and there is some satisfaction in that. But, again, ex-
perience taught the king, even the native king, that if his
subjects felt unkindly towards him as in north-western
Spain, as well as elsewhere, they sometimes did he had an
advantage could he obtain the support of the Church, and
especially if that support exerted itself through the Pope.
In return, the Pope had the allegiance of the king ; and the
two could stand together against ill-feeling, and even against
rebellion. When this happened, they who held that Spain
should be for the Spaniard found themselves in sorry state.

I have mentioned Cluny ; and no one who knows aught
of Cluny, more certainly in the days of its early abbots, can
think of that institution without profound reverence and.
almost unqualified admiration. The part that Cluny
played in the life of Europe, in the period of its ascend-
ancy, was of first importance. Not even the rise of the
Franciscans and Dominicans may allow us to forget the

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 189

work of the Cluniacs. In almost every Christian country
the society had its houses ; in Spain, not a few ; and every-
where its influence went to the uplifting of ideals both of
worship and of life. Out of it came the spirit of the Crusades.
In Spain it gave its full strength to the cult of St. James.
It stood by Compostella in the stress of its necessity and in
the peril of its prosperity. It also fostered and furthered in
every way possible the claims of the papacy. Free from
episcopal jurisdiction, it recognized itself as subject only to
the personal and immediate rule of the Pope.

Now, in the year 1070 there was made bishop of Iria a
man deserving of high praise, named Diego Pelaez. He
probably resided in Compostella ; and, after the style of his
predecessors for the previous two hundred years, had been
known also as the bishop thereof. The beginnings of the
effort to transfer the see from the one place to the other are
obscure, but some truth may lie in the story that somewhere
in the ninth century, perhaps within a few years of the re-
moval of the body of the Apostle to the convent of Ante-
altares, both king and Pope consented to the transfer on con-
dition that the honour of the see should be divided between
the two places. Accordingly the bishop was regarded in-
differently as of either Iria or Compostella. In like manner
the church in Compostella in which rested the sacred body
was not infrequently called the cathedral. To this church,
rebuilt by the good Pedro Mozoncio, had been added two
towers by a Bishop Cresconio. Little more is known of
Cresconio. He died, and was followed by Gudesteo, the
immediate predecessor of Diego Pelaez ; and of Gudesteo
this is the record. His occupancy of the see was too short
and too troublesome to allow him to further Mozoncio's
work of restoration. He was related to high Gallegan
nobility, and evidently in touch with their aspirations and
plans, but he quarrelled and fought with them, and finally
was hacked to bits in his own bed. Bishops in those days
were not considered exempt from such indignities.

Notwithstanding the darkness of such a tragedy, the new
bishop, Diego Pelaez, went on with the reconstruction of
Compostella ; and first of all he entered into plans for the
building of an entirely new church. In 1077 he made a
compact with Eagildo, the abbot of Antealtares, for the
pulling down of parts of the buildings over which the abbey
had control. He proposed beginning the new structure at
once. But the winter is said to have lasted from Michaelmas

190 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

to Quadragesima Sunday, bitterly cold, and as such memor-
able throughout Spain. Some start may have been made
in 1078, but the digging of the fresh foundations does not
seem to have been begun till 1082. The bishop had for his
architect Master Bernard the Marvellous, whose epithet
suggests him to have been an outstanding builder. Prob-
ably a Frenchman, he designed on Cluny models. Master
Bernard was assisted by about fifty other masters ; and
Professor King, who gives the best account of the building
of the church that I can find, mentions more. ' Wherever
men work with level and square, the name of Master Matthew
is revered, with those of Robert de Coucy and Pierre de
Chelles.'

The details of the construction of this edifice, difficult
indeed to trace, are for our purpose neither interesting nor
important. There is little doubt that in it may be found
bits of the earliest church erected on the site, and of the
several additions and restorations. The work begun by
Pelaez was carried on by his successors, and extensively so
by that Diego Gelmirez of whom we shall soon come to
speak. Money for the purpose came in freely. In 1124,
two canons of Santiago, by name Pedro Ansurez and Pelayo
Nunez, were running all over Italy, says Professor King,
collecting subscriptions for the fabric of the church of
St. James thereby again suggesting that there is nothing
new under the sun. Little by little the building was brought
nearer completion ; and little by little it was enriched by
decorations, sculptures, doorways, and windows. If man
could make it so, it should be a worthy sanctuary for the
great Apostle. The original plans were never entirely
carried out, but for seven hundred years this noble and
magnificent structure has displayed its beauty and told its
romance to the multitudes who have resorted thither ; and
the multitudes have never failed to admire or tired of
going the round of its wonders. None can question its
right to a place among the worthiest of Christian buildings :
the fitting shrine of one who had been favoured by Christ,
and a soul-stirring recompense for pilgrimage. Henry
Dwight Sedgwick, in his brief History of Spain, quotes
George Edmund Street as saying : ' I cannot avoid pro-
nouncing this effort of Master Matthew at Santiago to be one
of the greatest glories of Christian art ' ; and he tells us
that Professor Arthur Kingsley Porter calls it 'the most
overwhelming monument of medieval sculpture.'

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 191

To be satisfied of this, one has only to study the portico
known as the Gate of Glory, wrought by Maestro Mateo
before the end of the twelfth century. Mrs. Gallichan speaks
of it as 'the most precious thing in this noble church,' a
marvellous representation, as Lopez Ferreiro called it, of
' the House of God and the Door of Heaven ' ; and she most
aptly admonishes us : 'If you would feel all the beauty and
the joy which speaks in Mateo's divine portico, you must
be in touch with the spirit that lives in it with gladness,
with youth, and passion, and life.' Next in significance
to the figure of the Saviour is that of St. James, immediately
below see the frontispiece to her Story of Santiago ; or one
of the illustrations in Aubrey F. G. Bell's Spanish Galicia.
The Apostle holds in his left hand a staff, and in his right a
scroll on which are the words ' Misit me Dominus ' ' the
Lord hath sent me.'

Some fifty years before this wonderful portico was begun,
Aymery Picaud, priest, poet, and pilgrim, from Poitou,
visited Compostella, and, though the building planned by
Maestro Bernardo, that senex mirabilis magister, was still
far from completion, he describes, at least from hearsay,
the crypt. ' There lies St. James in a marble ark, in a fair
vaulted sepulchre, wonderful for size and workmanship.
It is lighted heavenly-wise with carbuncles like the gems
of the New Jerusalem, and the air is kept sweet with divine
odours ; waxen tapers with heavenly radiance light it, and
angelic service cares for it.'

The building had progressed far enough to be called
'finished' by 1138, two years before Gelmirez, the great
archbishop, died ; but it was not consecrated till 1211.
One hopes that the kindheartedness said to have been shown
by St. James towards Charlemagne in the day of his great-
est need displayed itself to the builders of the cathedral at
Compostella, particularly to Pelaez and Gelmirez if we can
suppose they had no better record than the emperor. With-
out the slightest foundation for the assumption, it was
claimed that Charlemagne had dedicated at Compostella
a basilica to the memory of the Apostle. He had his reward
one cannot help thinking, to the astonishment of the dili-
gent Thoth who watched the scales before Osiris. ' When
his soul appeared before the judgment-seat and Satan had
weighed down one balance with his sins, St. James cast the
basilica into the other balance, and turned the scales.'

We can imagine the consecration of the cathedral, May 3,

192 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

1211, to have been of extraordinary splendour and elaborate
ritual. I have no account of the ceremony before me ; but
doubtless there were present princes, prelates, and pilgrims
in large numbers from all parts of Spain, and some from
distant parts of Christendom. The little town was crowded :
every available bit of space in palace, hostelry, convent, inn,
and cottage packed with strangers, representative of nearly
every nation under heaven. In the great church scarcely
standing room to be had. There one can picture the knightly
guards of honour in glittering armour, the processions of
clergy and monks, the robes and costumes of gorgeous
fashion, the brilliant twinkling of tapers and the yellow
flaming of torches, 'the draping of banners and tapestries,
the clouds of incense, the faint struggling of sunshine through
lancet window and thickened air ; and as the eye surveys
the weird, magnificent panorama, the ear catches the sounds
of multitudes of singing voices and of innumerable trumpets
and drums, the rattling of swords out of their scabbards,
and the clanging of lances on the stone floor, the pealing of
bells, and the muffled murmuring of the crowd a medley
passing strange, and yet somehow or other rhythmical and
mellifluous. Probably such an experience would never again
come to many of those present such dignitaries, such
august rites, such profound solemnity, or gorgeous pageantry,
or fascinating grandeur.

The consecration was performed by Archbishop Pedro
Munzo, who held the see from 1207 to 1211. He is spoken
of as a great scholar and a great teacher, a poet and a theo-
logian, and his piety was such that people long after his
day pointed with no little pride to a hermitage in the wilder-
ness on the south-west skirts of Compostella where he spent
many days in prayer. He was also a necromancer, as so
many of the high officials of the Church of this period were
declared by their contemporaries to have been.

Indeed, it was then unwise, if not dangerous, for a man
to show any decided superiority among his fellows. Nearly
always his skill was attributed to the powers of darkness, as
though Heaven had exhausted itself in producing ordinary
and commonplace folk. Others besides Jews have declared
of men out of the ordinary, ' He hath a devil.' Even Pope
Gregory vn., as we read in William Godwin's Lives of the
Necromancers, published in 1834, was so expert in the arts
of magic, that ' he would throw out lightning by shaking his
arm, and dart thunder from his sleeve.' Pope Sylvester n.,

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 193

before he reached the pontifical throne or the archbishopric
of Rheims or Ravenna, which he held successively, is said
to have made an exhaustive study of Saracenic sorcery,
and to have learned so much, that his enemies declared,
after he became Pope, that he was habitually waited on by
demons. His familiarity with magic was unmistakably
evident in his introduction of the use of clocks, about the
year 996. The Moors had made Spain the very home of
diabolical ingenuity ; and in the reaction from the gloom
into which the Church fell as the first Christian millennium
drew near its end, morally at all events, it seemed as though
Satan had been loosed of his chains. Monsters of vice and
masters of wizardry were never so common.

It is ho wonder, then, that Don Pedro Mufizo, being an
outstanding man, should be found to have a devil or at
least some of the skill of such. A feat is recorded of him
which gives him a place among the professors of the Black
Art. Pythagoras, at one and the same moment, was present
in both Thurii and Metapontum ; and Apollonius of Tyana
transported himself in an instant of time from Smyrna to
Ephesus. So, being in Rome one Christmas night, Arch-
bishop Muiizo came back by wizardry, faster than light, to
Compostella, in order to read the last lesson at matins,
which had to be done that morning by a dignitary of St.
James's Church in Rome. This may not be as reprehensible
as it may seem. If the devil or the dead can be made to
further good purposes, perhaps one may rightly feel that
the end justifies the means. At the same time, the un-
believer may hold that it is easy enough to explain the
rumour as an exaggeration of a journey made more rapidly
than was common. However, this was he who consecrated
the cathedral.

It is likely that the people who had built and dedicated
to St. James a church in which wealth and art had done so
much, and faith and love had manifested themselves in a form
so noble, expected not only the approval of God, but also the
increased interest of the Apostle. Dedicated to the glory of
God, as had been the life of the saint after whom it was
named, the church was also devoted to the honour of that
servant who had been favoured by the Almighty. St. James
could scarcely help being pleased at the sacrifices made and
the beauty set forth in a building designed for his sanctuary.
The tribute offered him, he being human, although in Para-
dise, would have its effect upon his graciousness and willing-

194 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

ness to help. Miracles would increase in number and in
marvel. One stray instance may be given here. The time
came when at the far end of the church, immediately at the
back of the Portal of Glory, and facing the High Altar,
Maestro Mateo set a figure of himself in the posture of sup-
plication, pleading for forgiveness for the profanity of some
of his sculpture, and for pardon for the levities which he or
his fellows committed while at work. That he had been
acquitted was shown by the special quality which St. James
conferred on Mateo's carved figure. Having done the pre-
scribed devotions, thereby putting himself in the condition
of mind necessary for the reception of so great a favour, the
student who bumps his head against the head of that figure
will remember whatever he wishes to bring back to mind.
Thus may be secured a successful examination. Nor does
the Image dos Cloques seem to have lost any of its efficacy.
It is just as helpful now as it ever was. By observing the
proper ceremonies, the schoolboy to-day may overcome the
tendency to f orgetf ulness ; though it is possible that modern
thought will not have faith enough to overcome its own
objection to this assurance.

Some may smile at these old conceits. They would set
them aside as idle tales. Magicians, say they, have ceased
to exist, and miracles are no more wrought, either by gods
or demons. And yet, when one comes to think of it, one is
apt to feel that either miracle or magic brought this glorious
building of Compostella into being. Man seems scarcely
equal to such stupendous effort. One thinks the like in
Westminster and in Cologne, in Seville and in Toledo, and
elsewhere either in Europe or in India. Even as in master
poets or in transcendent art. a power greater than human
seems to be present. Centuries had gone by since Queen
Lupa's oxen dragged the sarcophagus in which lay the body
of the Apostle to its resting-place in the sacred grotto ;
and now, on this day of consecration, when all that a devoted
nation could do was done to give him honour, it seemed
as though Heaven itself had brought graciously of its strength
and loveliness. They who believed in St. James ascribed
the praise to God. He had wrought the miracle before
which men bowed the knee. And they who were without
faith, and did not care for the Apostle, attributed the splen-
dour which they could not deny to the work of Satan
which again goes to show that the sun beholds nothing new.

So much for the church ; and now more about the bishop,

IN THE CLOSE OF THE MILLENNIUM 195

Diego Pelaez, who began its construction. He seems to have
been an adherent of the principle, ' Spain for the Spaniards,'
and therefore stood in opposition to the claims of Rome on
the one hand, and to the ascendancy of Cluny on the other.
It was a losing fight. In his desperation, he turned to the
Normans and besought their help. Neither in Sicily, nor in
England, nor in their home country in the north of France,
had the Normans been distinguished for their support of the
papacy. But however willing, they could not avert the
inevitable. To appeal to a people that had never missed
a chance to despoil and ravage the Galician country, not
only proved the weakness, indeed the hopelessness, of the
episcopal party, but also seemed rather treasonable than
patriotic. In 1087 or 1088, Pelaez was deposed and cast
into prison ; and Dalmatius, a brother of Cluny, and in close
sympathy with the opponents of Pelaez, was appointed
bishop in his stead, and remained such till 1095, when the
office again became vacant.

We have gone back to times long before the consecration
of the cathedral, when it was yet in the early days of its con-
struction, and now comes into sight the man, who, as I have
already intimated, of all its benefactors and patrons, did
most to make Compostella like unto that Jerusalem which
is the joy of the whole earth, and to that Rome which sits
as mistress of the nations. I have called him the ' Great
Archbishop,' not only for the work attributed to him, and
the exalted position he reached in both Church and State,
but also for his moral and spiritual worth, his remarkable
foresight, his overflowing love of art and literature, his safe
leadership, and his unfailing control of both his ambition
and his policy. He was the Maecenas of Galicia.

CHAPTER XVI
DON DIEGO GELMIREZ

THE new bishop of Compostella, Dalmatius, undoubtedly
had been chosen, and was pledged, to reverse the policy
favoured by Pelaez. He was upheld by popular and power-
ful support, both royal and papal. Alfonso yi., now
king of Leon and Castile, stood by him. Pope Urban n.,
elected March 12, 1088, supreme pontiff in succession to
Gregory vn., one of the four men declared by Gregory best
qualified to carry out his policies and plans, was not only
as strong in his character and definite in his purpose as
Gregory himself, but also more prudent and conciliatory.
He had been sub-prior of Cluny, and had thoroughly assimi-
lated the ideals, and especially the brotherly spirit, of that
institution. To Dalmatius he gave friendship devoted and
unqualified. Henceforth Compostella was tied inseparably
to Rome and to Cluny. It was well for Compostella. With-
out Rome and Cluny not even St. James could have raised
the city to the dignity it attained. Nor did the strengthen-
ing of these relations prove burdensome, or other thambene-
ficial. Both Rome and Cluny gave to Compostella more
than they received therefrom, and they made the cult of
St. James as catholic as was the Saint himself.

It was in the pontificate of Urban n. that the First Crusade
was proclaimed, and it was at Clermont, in November 1095,
that the Pope preached the sermon which set Europe in
fierce array against the Saracens. Every Christian country,
except Spain, was urged to send its best fighting men to
Palestine. Spanish knights were to devote themselves
directly and energetically against the Moors who dwelt
among them. To kill a Moor in Spain secured the divine
blessing as surely as killing an Arab in the Holy Land.
Earlier than this, at Clermont, in the same year of his
election to the Papacy, and of Dalmatius's appointment to
the bishopric of Iria, Urban held a church council.

At this council, probably as a favour to Dalmatius, the
Pope removed a cause of jealousy which had existed for a

196

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 197

i

century or more, and sanctioned the absolute transfer of
the see from Iria to Compostella. As a sop to Iria, and also
in recognition of its ecclesiastical antiquity, he ordained
that the bishopric of Iria should be held directly and im-
mediately under the Pope himself. The drift in men's
minds towards Rome and Cluny went on apace. During
his short episcopate, Dalmatius guided safely the currents
of thought. He remembered his old home in Burgundy ;
he dreamed of the city in which his beloved Odo reigned.
Rome and Cluny ! And the city of St. James swerved never
the least from its allegiance to the one or its subservience to
the other. And the city passed more and more into the
hands of its bishop. He became lord thereof to a degree few
prelates attained. The name Compostella gave way for
the most part to the name Santiago, appropriately, and as
it proved permanently. Professor King says :

' The Bishop of Santiago was a great temporal lord. A
proverb says : " Obispo de Santiago, baculo y ballesta,"
which means, being interpreted, that the Bishop can wield
cross and cross-bow. He was lord of the city : all citizens
being subject to him and to his courts, with all lawsuits
civil and criminal ; and also of a wide district in which he
raised troops and led them himself. He had an organized
body of knights to receive his orders and come at his
summons/

Then, having done all he could do to destroy the influence
of Diego Pelaez and to prepare the way for Diego Gelmirez,
the man mightier than either, in 1095 Dalmatius journeyed
to the council ai Clermont, probably heard Pope Urban's
famous war-sermon, and, that over, stopped at his ever
enchanting Cluny, and died there. The deposed Pelaez at
once set out for Rome to seek for reinstatement. How
he got out of prison, or managed to get to Rome, I can only
conjecture ; nor can I imagine the reason for his hope that
the friend of Dalmatius would hear his plea. Of course he
was disappointed. France stood by the party that had
opposed him. Cluny had begun to cover Spain with its
colonies, and had made Spain a special field for its missions.
The great monastery had even adopted St. James as its own ;
and before long the abbot of Cluny would have the scallop-
shell of St. James on his shield. Soon all that was left of
Diego Pelaez was the part he had played in the rebuilding
of the shrine, and the epitaph : ' A man of great spirit, but
not lucky.'

198 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

With Dalmatius, in 1095, Don Diego Gelmirez went to
Clerinont. He was already, though a layman and still
young in years, administrator of the diocese. Earlier, in
1090, he had been chancellor to Raymund and Urraca, the
count and countess of Galicia. On the death of her father,
Alfonso vi., in 1109, Urraca became queen of Leon and
Castile, and she remained on the throne of the united king-
dom till 1126, when her son Alfonso el Emperador succeeded
her. She was a powerful friend for Diego Gelmirez to have.
To her and to her husband he owed much of his progress
and success ; and perhaps, in the long run, he proved him-
self as great in character, and, according to his opportunities,
as advanced in accomplishment, as either of them, or indeed
as any of his contemporaries.

As an official of the diocese, and having duties and
responsibilities which needed close attention, Gelmirez
probably resided in Santiago; and early in his career he
began to put into evidence his interest in the city. Not
only did he urge on as forcefully as he could the buildings
designed by Pelaez, but he also founded, or at least restored,
the hospice near the cathedral. Undoubtedly he had
ambitions for himself. The power and wealth which, even in
disturbed times, steadily accumulated at Santiago, made the
episcopal throne an object of desire. Political leaders became
deeply concerned in its occupancy ; the most outstanding of
the clergy considered it a position worth striving for. Above
all else, St. James demanded for his spokesman a leader of
impressive abilities, a scholar, warrior, and statesman.
His patrimony called for a guardian with real business
acumen and financial gifts. As we shall soon see, the mighty
man was drawn to the front, whether he willed it or not ;
and if Don Diego Gelmirez owed much to the Apostle, the
Apostle owed even more to him.

And now, after wandering for centuries across fog-covered
seas of legend and tradition, we reach land, which histori-
cally and every step onward becomes firmer and safer. We
move from stories insecure to facts resting on fairly trust-
worthy foundation. Many of the stories which have inter-
ested us, though pertaining to events alleged to have hap-
pened long before, may not have come to light till after these
days ; and many may have been found out, or have been
shaped or coloured, to serve some fancied need or purpose :
but with such suppositions we are not now concerned. With
Gelmirez we leave conjecture and reach comparative cer-

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 199

tainty. Under the guidance of the man now coming more
clearly into sight, and in the dawn of the new day, Santiago
rises out of obscurity into fame, and the village on an
outlying hillside of Galicia becomes a city, the beauty and
importance of which confer pride on Spain and give joy to
Christendom.

In 1100 Diego Gelmirez was ordained subdeacon at Rome,
and soon after was elected bishop of Santiago. Pope
Urban n. had died in 1099, but his successor, Paschal n.,
a monk of Cluny and a zealous advocate of the Hildebrandine
policy, ruled the Church with a hand no less firm and a
will no less determined, for the next eighteen years. Not-
withstanding his own strong and obstinate individuality,
Gelmirez was undoubtedly dependent on Cluny, and on
Raymund of Burgundy, then the husband of Urraca. Professor
King says definitely that c Diego Pelaez the Spaniard of
Spain was ousted by a creature of Cluny and of Raymund of
Burgundy, Diego Gelmirez.' He had also the strong support
of Bernard, archbishop of Toledo, a Frenchman and of
Cluny, who had done his best to fill the sees of Spain either
with his countrymen or with Cluniac adherents. And being
inside the Cluniac league, and like Dalmatius held bound to
further the purposes of that league to the utmost, and also on
the ground that the Pope was the proper and immediate
lord, Gelmirez set aside the metropolitan rights of the arch-
bishop of Braga, whose jurisdiction covered Santiago, and
would have gone to Rome to receive consecration from the
Cluniac pontiff, Paschal n. But the deposed Diego Pelaez,
and his ally Pedro i. of Aragon, held all the roads leading
into France, so that the consecration had to be performed
by four local and obscure prelates.

Gelmirez proceeded energetically with the building of
the cathedral at Santiago, and the erection of other churches,
a palace for the entertainment of visiting bishops, halls for
his soldiers, hostelries for pilgrims, a great nunnery, and
several schools. In the course of his episcopate he reformed
and reorganized his diocese in almost every department.
He raised the number of his canons to seventy-two, and
compelled them to live more like clerks than soldiers. In-
stead of coming to chapter-meetings spurred and cloaked
and sometimes with three days' beard, they were obliged to
present themselves shaven and in surplice and cope. They
had to swear to be always and in all things faithful and
obedient, to defend his life and person, and to exalt his

200 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

dignity. Professor King says : ' They hated him quite
wonderfully.'

Professor King, who has summed up the story of his life
with untiring industry and unfailing accuracy, and to whom
I am indebted for much information elsewhere in these
pages, and especially here, speaks of his restoration of the
church of Santa Cruz on the hill called Mount joy near the
Lugo road, by which pilgrims came to Compostella. The
church was also called Capilla del Cuerpo Santo, from one
of the miracles of St. James, wrought not so many years
before this time. Professor King thinks that the mingling
of folklore and actuality in this legend is the ' quaintest,
sweetest, ever savoured.' The story appears in the Golden
Legend, and therefrom I transcribe it, adding in parenthesis
two passages from Professor King's version :

' Thirty men of Lorraine went together on pilgrimage to
St. James about the year of our Lord a thousand and sixty-
three, and all made faith to other that every man should
abide and serve other in all estates that shall happen by
the way, except one, that would make no covenant. (When
they reached Gascony and the Portam Clausam Port de
Cize,) it happed that one of them was sick and his fellows
abode and awaited on him fifteen days, and at last they all
left him, save he that promised not, which abode by him
and kept him at the foot of the Mount St. Michael. And
when it drew to night the sick man died, and when it was
night, the man that was alive was sore afraid for the place
which was solitary, and for the presence of the dead body,
and for the cruelty of the strange people, and for the dark-
ness of the night that came on. (The survivor in solitude
and night, amid mountains and Basques, called for help on
St. James.) But anon St. James appeared to him in likeness
of a man on horseback and comforted him and said : Give
me that dead body tofore me, and leap thou up behind me
on my horse. And so they rode all that night fifteen days'
journey that they were on the morn to see the sun rising at
Montoia, which is but half a league from St. James. Then
St. James left them both, commanding him that was alive,
that he should assemble the canons of St. James to bury
this pilgrim, and that he should say to his fellows, because
they had broken their faith their pilgrimage availed them
not. And he did his commandment, and when his fellows
came they marvelled how he had so fast gone, and he told
to them all that St. James had said and done.'

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 201

In the year 1104, doubtless as humble-minded and piously
inclined as it was possible for one with his ambition and
energy to be, Bishop Gelmirez set out for Rome. On his
way he visited the possessions of Compostella scattered here
and there in Gascony, and stayed at Cluny. The abbot of
Cluny, as Professor Coulton reminds us, about this time
enjoyed an influence in Europe second only to the Pope's.
St. Hugh was now such, the sixth and perhaps the greatest
of the seven mighty and saintly men who, between the years
910 and 1157, brought Cluny to its highest splendour and
made it the head of over three hundred houses, and the abbot
the immediate superior of more than ten thousand monks.
Six years earlier Hugh had had a great struggle with his own
diocesan bishop. He received Gelmirez with deference, the
community coming out in procession to meet him, thereby
indicating the close attachment already formed between
Cluny and Compostella ; he also gave Gelmirez much
salutary advice. He intimated the suspicion and dislike
which Rome had of the assumptions of Compostella. Fifty
odd years earlier Cresconio had no sooner attained the epis-
copal throne than he used the title of ' Bishop of the Apostolic
See ' ; and the Council of Rheims promptly excommunicated
him. He repented. Other bishops had put out suggestions
of claims extraordinary and questionable. They were
making too much of the privileges conferred on them by
St. James ; perhaps Satan was leading them on to the loss
of all that had been accorded them. The abbot knew the
thoughts in the bishop's heart : the ambition as well as the
gifts, the worth as well as the danger. Possibly too he
knew that rumours of the extravagant and worldly habits
prevalent in Compostella had reached the Pope. Rome
had her eye in every place. Even Cluny did not escape that
keen watchfulness. Some twenty years after this visit, Pope
Honorius excommunicated Pons of Cluny, then the friend and
counsellor of Gelmirez, for prodigality, luxury, and ambition.

Gelmirez greatly longed for the pallium, that vestment of
honour conferred by the Pope only on such prelates as he
desired to distinguish, generally archbishops and metro-
politans. It was both an evidence of his personal favour,
and also a symbol of jurisdiction directly and personally
delegated by him. Don Diego discussed the chances with
Abbot Hugh ; and the abbot reminded him that not even
his predecessor Dalmatius, though habit-brother of Urban n.,
and supported by many great prelates in his application for

202 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

it, succeeded in getting it. He advised him by no means to
ask for it himself.

The bishop pursued his journey the first bishop of
Santiago of whom there was a memory to visit Rome. It
was an absorbing, all-conquering experience. Even had he
wished, he could not avoid being profoundly impressed by
all that he saw and heard. Rome was still the world's most
wonderful and most important city. Here art and music
and scholarship flourished nearest to perfection on earth.
Here religion had reached its highest development. Nowhere
else could be seen such buildings or heard such services and
orations. Soon to him things Roman were superior to all
things Spanish ; and not unreasonably so, for stupendous
was the contrast between the poor little city of St. James in
the far-away wilds of Galicia, and the city in which the suc-
cessors of St. Peter held the heritage of the Caesars and ruled
amidst a splendour greater than that of the Empire. Here
he beheld the glory of Christendom ; the fulfilment of some
of the most astonishing visions of the Apocalypse ; the
pomp and wealth of nations gathered into the city of God ;
the Prince of Apostles crowned with the diadem of power ;
the Vicar of Christ resplendent, not so much with the gold
and precious stones and embroidered robes of kings, though
such were there as nowhere else, but with traditions and
assumptions beyond aught that Pharaohs had known :
his feet on the necks of princes, and his hands holding the
keys of heaven. One can imagine all this, and more than this,
though the chronicler tells it not. Enthusiasm entered into
the heart of Gelmirez : fascination bound his very soul. He
became subservience itself. The hospitality freely given him
and the kindness showed him tended to absolute surrender.
The farthest away from Rome became Rome's closest adherent.

To Pope Paschal he protested his entire submission,
accepting the claims of the papacy without qualification :
a somewhat extraordinary act, for two hundred years more
had to go by before the Spanish bishops began to call them-
selves such ' by the grace of God and of the Church of
Rome.' But Rome was moving fast to supremacy not, I
repeat, unhealthily so, for Rome was superior in every par-
ticular, save, as some may hold, that of independence,
which meant nearly always licence rather than liberty, and
ignorance rather than knowledge. The whole system of
Roman canon law had begun to take the place of the decrees
and opinions of local councils and diocesan synods. Justice

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 203

and consistency, broadmindedness and experience, won
where prejudice, contradiction, and arbitrary and personal
fancies failed. On the other hand, attempts to support the
papal claims had been made by the forgeries in the Isidorean
decretals. Already the ancient Gothic or Mozarabic liturgy,
though revised by scholars such as Isidore and solemnly
approved by Pope John x. at Rome in 923, had been super-
seded, mass having been celebrated for the first time in the
Peninsula according to the Roman Use, at a Benedictine
church in Aragon, March 13, 1071. This was done at the
instigation of the monks of Cluny, whose influence in Spain
was not only dominant, but also strenuously papal. So
that when Gelmirez, probably on bended knee, proffered
obedience to the Roman pontiff, he read the signs of the
times and pleased both Rome and Cluny where they most
desired to be pleased.

Don Diego Gelmirez probably said nothing about the
pallium ; but he got it nevertheless as ambitious men of his
abilities generally get things they wish for without asking
for them. Perhaps Cluny helped him. The Pope did not
make a mistake.

At all events the bishop went back to Compostella a
bigger man and more powerful than ever. If he managed
affairs there more determinedly and more absolutely than
before, it shows that he had profited by his visit to Rome.
His will became law. Perhaps, however, the happiest of
all the enterprises he inaugurated was his school for music.
The people knew well enough how to fight : now he would
have them taught how to sing. His purpose may have been,
not so much for art's own sake, as to enhance the solemnity
of divine service. It may have been to have them chant
psalms as the choir chanted them at Cluny : unceasingly,
monotonously, wearily ; and such singing may occasion
results more or less desirable. Men who spend their time
thus have little spirit for anything else. They neither study
nor give way to thoughts or emotions of evil. They are
saved from much sin. Indeed, if they enjoy it, they may
imagine themselves in heaven before their time. Should
they chance thereby to be deprived of their senses, there is
a madness akin to fanaticism which some have thought
inspired and useful. And of all fanatics religious ones seem
the happiest. Indeed, Dryden said :

' There is a pleasure, sure,
In being mad, which none but madmen know.'

204 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

I have been led aside to make these reflections, not because
I think that music necessarily begets insanity, or that Gel-
mirez devised his singing school purposely to make madmen,
but for the reason that I am about to touch upon a phase of
Galician life which suggests that both he and his people had
taken leave of their senses. There is no possible connexion
that I can see between music and the bit of history to which
I refer. Nor yet between religion and that same bit of
history. Nor between it and any other thing, either good or
bad, that now comes to mind. On the contrary, instead of
similarity, it is contrast the contrast of peace and war,
of angels' play and demons' strife, of the quiet drift of the
Lady of Shalott and the fierce conflict in the sixth book of
Paradise Lost. At one time we look upon white-robed boys
chanting litanies in the still sanctuary of St. James ; at
another, on warriors steeled and armed, fire flashing in their
eyes, hatred burning in their hearts, noisy with the noise
of battle, and furious with the fury of death. And I picture
Gelmirez now fingering softly the strings of a harp and hum-
ming tunes of heavenly harmony, and anon shouting war-
cries and bidding slaughter and clashing spears. The same
man : and yet, to-day in surplice and stole ; to-morrow in
helmet and breastplate a bishop and a knight, a messenger
of mercy and an embodiment of wrath. Such were the
times ! And in them one understands how the fisherman
of Galilee becomes the champion of Clavijo, and Don Diego
figures both in song and in blood !

Five or six years after the bishop's visit to Rome, revolt
broke out in Galicia against Alfonso el Batallador, king of
Aragon, whom Queen Urraca had married after the death of
her first husband, Raymund of Burgundy. This marriage
had united the kingdoms of Castile and Leon and the king-
dom of Aragon ; but Alfonso i. of Aragon was a brute and
savage, and Urraca was a wanton as Burke says, ' not
only a faithless wife, but a false and incapable sovereign.'
And Burke further tells us : * Castile suffered even more
severely than Aragon for the vices and crimes of their
sovereigns. Alfonso harried his wife's subjects in Leon
more remorselessly than did their Moslem enemies ; Urraca
intrigued with her lovers in Castile against her husband in
Aragon ; and the usual civil wars were only varied by the
addition of a woman's frailty to a sovereign's faithlessness.'

By the year 1111 Galicia could no longer endure the
tyranny and disorder. Gelmirez headed the rebellion against

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 205

Alfonso of Aragon, in the name of Urraca and her child
Alfonso, son of Raymund. 'September 27, 1111,' says
Professor King, ' he anointed the child of seven and put
sword and sceptre in his hands, crown on his head, and set
him on the pontifical throne. The coronation banquet he
held in the episcopal palace, with all the great Gallegan
nobles enacting their titular roles, bearing bason and cup,
undressing the King, and putting him to bed.'

A long period of discord ensued, which I can only sum-
marize. The queen was busy enough from first to last.
She not only encouraged her adherents and got up an army
to vex her opponents, but, anxious to show her gratitude
and to retain the friendship of Gelmirez, she wandered about
Galicia looking for things to give to Santiago, ' odd granges
and villages, and little stray churches.' On the other hand,
her husband, Alfonso of Aragon, did all he could to defeat
her plans and to rob her kingdom, with varying and never
conclusive success. An English pirate fleet on. its way to
Palestine, finding Galicia in evil condition, sacked the
country to its heart's content. Any approach to recon-
ciliation of the king and queen was denounced by Gelmirez.
The Pope had declared their marriage null and void, on the
ground of consanguinity rather inconsistently, for both he
and Gelmirez knew the objections at the time of the marriage.
But Alfonso had favoured Bishop Diego Pelaez, and that
may have set Gelmirez so bitterly against him. On Mid-
summer Day, 1113, in the presence of the queen and her
soldiers, the bishop celebrated mass and preached, on the
hills about Burgos, which Alfonso was on his way to besiege.
His opposition to reunion brought upon him the wrath of
the crowd ; and other differences set him and the queen at
odds. He escaped from a mob which threatened his life ;
and in a few weeks' time was safely back in Santiago. The
queen followed him, and planned to imprison him, but she
failed. So the strife dragged on its weary course.

If the queen was really terrible, Gelmirez was no less so,
when his spirit was aroused. In 1 1 15 a Moorish fleet ravaged
the coast of Galicia, and the bishop had two galleys built
in Iria, which he sent forth to seek vengeance in Moorish
lands. Professor King tells the story of these episcopal free-
booters :

' Where they landed, they burned houses and grain-
fields, cut down trees and vines, destroyed and sacked
mosques the reader pauses here to remember the Spanish

206 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

testimony to Almanzor's conduct in Santiago after com-
mitting all sorts of outrages in them, cut the throats of women
and children, or loaded with chains those that seemed like-
liest for slaves. When the galleys were crammed they came
back, and in the partition gave one-fifth to the prelate, in-
cluding gold and silver, besides his share as lord of the two
galleys. In return, Seville and Lisbon blockaded the ports
of Galicia for five years with twenty ships, then Don Diego
broke the blockade and did the same again.'

One wonders what had become of St. James, till one
remembers the village of the Samaritans and the vengeance
of Elijah. Gelmirez, after all, is the creation of his age ;
and the age knew no incongruity between the melodies of
minstrels and the shrieks of cutthroats. But Gelmirez
was loyal to the child-king, even to the setting aside of
obligations due to the queen-mother. At his instigation,
towards the end of the year 1116, the youthful Alfonso,
then of the ripening age of thirteen, came to Galicia to claim
the kingdom as his own. He was welcomed by the bishop ;
and in the cathedral at Compostella he took possession.
His mother, Queen Urraca, at once took arms to frustrate
his purpose. The people of Santiago rose in rebellion
against the bishop, for, as an almost contemporary chronicler
puts it, ' without the right to rise, and without changing
masters at every step, they cannot conceive liberty.' They
would annul the authority of the bishop in the city, and
reduce him to the estate of a simple though decorative chap-
lain. He had to take refuge in the church towers, and to
sell his plate and rich stuffs to buy food. The queen laid
down conditions of surrender. So desperate did his pre-
dicament become, that he went to the queen and sought
for peace. She was away from the city, but she received
him kindly, and, as an evidence of her good will, perhaps in
acknowledgment of his promises, she gave him the head of
St. James Alphaeus, which the archbishop of Braga had
recently brought from Jerusalem. Gelmirez accepted the
gracious and enviable gift with joy. It made amends for
much that he had suffered, and augured well for the future of
Compostella. He sent word to the city of his treasure.
For the nonce better feelings prevailed. The procession
came into Santiago barefoot. No welcome could have been
kindlier. The bishop laid the head on the altar : with
solemnity, reverence, satisfaction. Then he said mass.
No one seems to have thought of any rivalry between the

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 207

son of Zebedee and the son of Alphaeus. They had been
together in the Apostolic College ; they could rest together
in the one sanctuary. The queen made peace with her son,
or rather with her son's custodians, and Gelmirez proceeded
to punish the rebels left in Compostella.

The next year, 1117, the rebels set fire to the cathedral,
but beyond melting the bells in the towers the fire did little
damage. Soon the king obtained full mastery ; and, his
disturbing subjects thoroughly reduced and his mother
appeased, he ruled Galicia till the queen's death, unlamented
and unloved, in 1126, when he ascended the throne of the
united kingdom of Leon and Castile. A few years later, in
1135, he proclaimed himself ' Imperator totius Hispaniae.'

This sketch of one of the many internecine struggles
through which Spain had to pass before she consolidated
her kingdoms and principalities into one realm and juris-
diction, under one sovereign, will serve to illustrate the life
of her mediaeval prelates, and in particular the career of
Don Diego Gelmirez. Far distant from the ideal presented
in the New Testament and in the history and teaching of
the primitive Church, these prince-bishops, territorial lords
as well as spiritual overseers, products of their age, were
men of war, oftentimes rude, cruel, and relentless, nearly
always courageous and resourceful, and able alike to com-
mand their spearmen and archers and to control their own
consciences and emotions. They were expected to be just
what they were : as much at home on the battlefield as at
the altar or in their grange-land. They should decide on
plans and adornments for buildings, the transcendent art
of which should delight and perplex the people of distant
lands and still more distant ages ; they should propound
theories of government, of philosophy, of morals, that should
undeniably lift up succeeding generations to nobler achieve-
ment and purer life ; they should make laws in which
reason should be satisfied and justice unable to find error ;
they should be exemplars which none could question, or
God do other than commend in short, on the one hand,
they should fill an ideal of conduct and deportment second
to none that man has ever devised ; but, on the other hand,
with equal skill, they should arrange for occasions of offence
and defence, be able to outwit adversaries and enemies of
every sort, be as quick at severity as at mercy, be as ready
to hang the guilty as to pardon the innocent, as remorseless
at administering torture as happy in giving pleasure in

208 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

other words, to reconcile and carry out to their utmost limit
the philosophy of the Pastoral Epistles and the philosophy
of the books of Joshua and Judges.

It is not likely that they who looked for such widely
distant opposites in their ecclesiastical leaders ever found
them approaching their fullness in any one man. Most men,
even then, inclined more to one than to the other extreme ;
but whichever the direction, there seemed to have been
little surprise. Gelmirez occasioned little wonder. He
was statesman and soldier as well as priest and preacher.
His efficiency remained ever high, whether as a secretary,
or as a bishop, or as a manager of an estate, or as a counsellor,
or as a leader or a suppressor of rebels, or as a wirepuller
in the courts of kings or popes, or as a protector of strange
projects or promoter of curious enterprises. He could
slaughter revolutionaries as easily as sing matins or save
souls ; and no greater contrast can be imagined than the
life required of him, and the life looked for in such men as
Hugh of Cluny.

Honours came freely to Gelmirez. Calixtus n. recog-
nized his great merits, and in 1120 gave him authority over
Merida, the ancient metropolis of Lusitania ; and till 1399
the archbishop of Compostella held jurisdiction over the
Portuguese dioceses. Two years later, in 1122, the Pope
extended the privilege of the Holy Year to the cathedral
at Compostella. The canons, three times as many as the
old cathedral numbered, were allowed to wear mitres ; and
Gelmirez obtained from Rome the ratification of the ' Vow
of Santiago,' that is, of King Ramiro's pledge to pay a certain
tribute to Compostella. Even from Jerusalem came com-
mendations. The Patriarch wrote to Gelmirez and praised
him for his goodness and prudence, thanked him for his
kindness to messengers, his gifts and favours, and begged
him to keep up help with his prayers, his alms, and the
material means of defence against the Saracens. The
archbishop also sent contributions to the building of the
church at Cluny.

More than this. Gelmirez succeeded in holding his own
through much powerful and fierce opposition. He suffered
much from the ingratitude of Alfonso, son of Raymund and
Urraca, whom he had befriended and crowned, but who
turned out to be a weak and mean-minded man the first
' Emperor of Spain.' The king tormented the aged prelate :
at one time extorting from him large amounts of money,

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 209

and at another doing him reverence by bending his head
and kissing the archbishop's hand. The people of Com-
postella and the canons of the cathedral opposed the man
who had sought above all things to further their interests.
They broke out in rebellion against him, perhaps because of
the severity of his discipline and the unyielding firmness of
his will. In his advancing years they got impatient for him
to die. They failed to realize that his ambition and his
courage were for Santiago, and not for himself. The Pope
stayed their hand. He summoned him to the Second
Lateran Council, for April 1139 ; but in the following
January the old man died, and was buried in the cloister
of the cathedral he had loved so well.

Florez styles Gelmirez, ' Exemplar of heroic churchmen ' ;
and Professor King scarcely limits the eloquence of her
eulogy. She calls him a good soldier, a great ruler, a magni-
ficent prince. ' He stood, for a moment, fairly co-equal
with the Pope of Rome.' As the years oppressed, and his
fighting strength ebbed, his spirit burned more splendid.
' His figure, against the ruddy twilight of his distant century,
stands always superb.' Mrs. Gallichan is no less enthusi-
astic. ' The many-sided capacity of Gelmirez,' she says,
' marks him as a Spaniard of the Spaniards. What I wish
to emphasize especially is the way in which the spiritual side
of his character found its expression in a flaming activity for
practical works.' So, one of the latest writers on Galicia,
Aubrey F. G. Bell, re-echoes the paean of praise. ' In the
stirring days of Queen Urraca, when Galicia, so to speak, gave
birth to Portugal, Don Diego Gelmirez, Galician archbishop
of Santiago, was one of the most remarkable men of the
eleventh and early twelfth centuries, and employed his
splendid energy and talents in the most various ways, from
raising his see to an archbishopric, to building a fleet in
order to protect the coast.'

In his Sacerdotal Celibacy, Dr. Henry C. Lea has a passage
which illustrates much that I have said about the relations
between Don Diego Gelmirez and King Alfonso vn., and
gives an instance of the compromises and quibbles so rife
in the Middle Ages. Dr. Lea is second neither in accuracy
nor in judgment to any scholar who has written on the
subjects of which he has dealt. I venture to transcribe
here the passage to which I refer.

* In 1127 Diego, at the head of his Galician troops, accom-
panied Alfonso vn. on an expedition into Portugal. On

o

210 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

their return, the army halted at Compostella, where the arch-
bishop received and entertained his sovereign. They were
bound by the closest ties, for Diego had baptized, knighted,
and crowned him, and had, moreover, constantly stood his
friend throughout his stormy youth, in the endless civil
wars which marked the disastrous reign of his mother,
Queen Urraca. Yet, prompted by evil counsellors who were
jealous of Diego, the king suddenly demanded of him an
enormous sum of money to pay off the army, under the
threat of seizing and pillaging the city. After considerable
resistance, Diego was forced to submit, and to pay a thousand
marks of silver. He then sought a private interview, in
which he solemnly and affectionately warned Alfonso of the
ruin of his soul which would ensue if he did not undergo
penance for thus impiously spoiling the Apostle Santiago.
Alfonso listened humbly, and professed entire willingness to
repent, but for the difficulty that he had always been taught
that penitence was fruitless without restitution, and resti-
tution he was unable and unwilling to make. Diego then
suggested that he should meet the chapter and discuss the
case, to which he graciously assented. In the assembly
which followed, Diego proposed that the king should follow
the example of his father, Raymund of Galicia, in commend-
ing himself to the peculiar patronage of Santiago, and in
bequeathing his body to be buried in their church, promis-
ing, moreover, that if he should do so they would pray
specially for him, which, from the promise of his youth, bade
fair to be no easy task. Alfonso was delighted to escape so
easily ; he eagerly accepted the proposition, and added that
he would like to become a canon of their church, in order
to enjoy the fullest possible share in the masses of such
holy men. To this the chapter assented at once ; he was
forthwith duly installed as a canon of the church which
he had just despoiled, and his conscience was set at rest,
while the church felt that it had acquired a moral supremacy
over the spoiler. In thus formally becoming a canon, there
could have been no assumption of celibacy, expressed or
implied. Alfonso was but twenty-one years of age, and in
the following year he married Berengaria, daughter of the
Count of Barcelona.'

Dr. Lea quotes as his authority for this episode the His-
toria Compostelleana (lib. ii., cap. 87), and reminds us that
Arthur, duke of Brittany, grandson of Henry n. of England,
during the war between him and his uncle, John of England,

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 211

though only thirteen years of age, was received at Tours at
Easter, 1200, as a canon in the church of the Blessed Martin.
Three years later Arthur was killed, so many thought, by
his uncle's own hand. Shakespeare represents Hubert de
Burgh as sent by the king to put the boy-prince out of the
way. Hubert found the crime beyond him. When accused
of the murder, he declared :

' If I in act, consent, or sin of thought,
Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath
Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
Let hell want pains enough to torture me.'

Later the prince is said to have been killed in a leap from
the castle of Northampton.

' They found him dead and cast into the streets ;
An empty casket, where the jewel of life
By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away.'

The little canon of St. Martin met his fate, notwithstanding
the sanctity of both his royal blood and his ecclesiastical
dignity ; but none who has read his story in the poet's sacred
page, out of pure love and pity, be the digression never so
violent, can avoid stopping to think of him.

To return to Archbishop Gelmirez : this only need be
added concerning his devotion to St. James, and to his city
and relics. Morales says that Don Diego, wisely considering
that the marble coffin and the body would be regarded with
more reverence if they were concealed, placed them in a
vault under the great altar. And there, says the learned
Jesuit, all rumours to the contrary notwithstanding, they
still remain, never having been opened since. In 1884,
Cardinal Miguel Paya y Rico, archbishop of Santiago from
1874 to 1885, discovered in a crypt behind the high altar
in the cathedral the sepulchre and relics of the Apostle.
This discovery, as we have already stated, was confirmed by
the Pope the same year.

The cathedral, though much changed from the building
which Gelmirez saw, retains associations and environments
enough to bring him vividly to mind. Splendid in cen-
turies past, it is still a marvellous edifice. Aubrey Bell says :
' The cathedral of Santiago is not the most beautiful in
Spain, but in many ways it is one of the most attractive.'
Rather unexpectedly we find Borrow affected by it though
he only alludes to the great silver censer, which so delighted
Aubrey Bell, the botafumeiro, Victor Hugo's ' king of

212 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

censers ' : perhaps the most wonderful of the many wonders
in Compostella, requiring seven strong men to pull the ropes
and cause it to swing, slowly at first, then gradually swifter
and swifter, till the building is filled with rushing, trailing
clouds of incense. If St. James, sleeping in his shrine
behind the high altar, be conscious of the honour done to
him, he must also admire the ingenuity and enthusiasm
displayed in that strange, joyous, almost living machine !
Proud, indeed, are they who work it : delighted they who
watch the rhythmic sway of the bowl whose glowing, flaring
spices seem to have had breathed into them the breath of
lif e ! ' At length,' says Aubrey Bell, 'its flights gradually
become slower and shorter, till it sinks to earth, and is
rapidly seized and carried away, still flaring, on a pole by
two men, laughing, like a bunch of grapes from the land of
Canaan, to its confessional-like box in a quiet corner of the
library of the Sola Capitular.'

But to quote Borrow, who is generally worth quoting,
even though you read him cautiously, and sometimes with
more irritation than pleasure. He seems to have fallen in
love with Compostella.

' The cathedral,' he says, ' though a work of various
periods, and exhibiting various styles of architecture, is a
majestic venerable pile, in every respect calculated to excite
awe and admiration ; indeed, it is almost impossible to walk
its long dusky aisles, and hear the solemn music and the
noble chanting, and inhale the incense of the mighty censers,
which are at times swung so high by machinery as to smite
the vaulted roof, whilst gigantic tapers glitter here and
there amongst the gloom, from the shrine of many a saint,
before which the worshippers are kneeling, breathing forth
their prayers and petitions for help, love, and mercy, and
entertain a doubt that we are treading the floor of a house
where God delighteth to dwell.'

Though ' almost impossible,' Borrow was Protestant
enough to be able to entertain this doubt and to contradict
himself. He declared that instead of the Lord delighting
to dwell therein, the Lord was distant from that house:
' He hears not, He sees not, or if He do, it is with anger.'
Borrow could even despise the devotions of the worshippers :
' What availeth kneeling before that grand altar of silver,
surmounted by that figure with its silver hat and breast-
plate, the emblem of one who, though an apostle and con-
fessor, was at best an unprofitable servant ? '

DON DIEGO GELMIREZ 213

I am glad that Borrow did not see the men carrying away
the great censer. It would have grieved him at heart.
Most people, I among them, like that touch of life suggested
in ' laughing.' It is the laugh of work well done !

And yet Borrow tells a legend, not altogether without
connexion with the cathedral at Compostella, a felicitous
legen^, with a ray of clean poetry running through it, so
beautiful and true, that one forgets Sorrow's lapses of
charity.

' On the way from Padron,' he says, ' we proceeded a con-
siderable way through a very picturesque country until we
reached a beautiful village at the skirt of a mountain.
"This village," said my guide, "is called Los Angeles,
because its church was built long since by the angels ; they
placed a beam of gold beneath it, which they brought down
from heaven, and which was once a rafter of God's own
house. It runs all the way under ground from thence to
the cathedral of Compostella." ' This village, however, did
not give its name to the city in California : the Pueblo de
Nuestra Sefiora la Reina de los Angeles.

And now we turn to another phase of our study, in some
respects the most interesting of all the aspects we have dealt
with, that of the pilgrimages to Santiago, with the develop-
ment of which Don Diego Gelmirez had much to do, though
it is doubtful if he dreamed of the popularity to which
such spiritual enterprises would attain. We have already
said something of this part of our subject. Before Gelmirez's
time, the efficacy of St. James had become not a little famous.
Infirm folk journeyed from long distances to the shrine at
Compostella, some to be healed of their sicknesses, and
others at least to die in the atmosphere of holiness which there
prevailed. Indeed, for many centuries, it would seem that
the chief purpose of St. James was to draw the sin-smitten
and disease-afflicted people of Christendom to this distant
and secluded part of the world, solely for their spiritual or
physical good. Other benefits followed. The constant
and increasing flow of pilgrims enriched Compostella, added
power and dignity to its rulers, and helped Spain to gain
that position in Europe which for no mean length of time
made her mighty among the nations.

CHAPTER XVII

PILGRIMAGE

MAN has ever been given to wandering over the face of the
earth. From the day he went out of the garden of Eden,
and from a tiller of the soil became a hunter of beasts,
through all the ages, down to the present time, he has gone
hither and thither, over seas and mountains and deserts,
not always of necessity, but frequently of choice. He has
loved to explore unknown countries and to see strange
places. The attempt to keep down this tendency, by build-
ing the Tower of Babel, was frustrated, so an ancient legend
tells us, by the confusion of tongues. We are not now
so much interested in the scattering of the human race as
in the universal and perennial craving for travel. Not only
does the tribe migrate, either for safety or for food, but the
individual, for reasons of his own, perhaps purely senti-
mental, begotten in his own fancy, undertakes journeys far
from the land in which he was born.

Thus pilgrimages, in the religious sense of the term,
appealed to an instinct in man, a natural disposition, some-
times expressing itself in a journey to the shrine of an
Egyptian god or a Greek goddess, or in an annual excursion
to the Temple at Jerusalem : and it would seem that the
more distant the place of desire, the more determined was
the purpose and the more praiseworthy became its fulfil-
ment. We can well understand that the purpose, though
ostensibly religious, was by no means always separate
from other motives. The pilgrimage to Canterbury, for
instance, as depicted in Chaucer, afforded a pleasant
holiday trip, delightful companionship, exciting experiences,
exhilarating amusement, and a knowledge of people and
places which did much to alleviate the dullness and
monotony of ordinary life. The Kentish countryside, in
its refreshing, green-leafed April, still resounds with the
merry laugh of the genial, outspoken Host, and of the
Monk who loved hunting, and of the Wyf of Bathe, with

814

PILGRIMAGE 215

her scarlet hose and bold, red face, whose feats of pilgrimage
had been many :

' And thryes hadde she been at Jerusalem ;
She hadde passed many a straunge streem ;
At Rome she hadde been, and at Boloigne,
In Galice at seint Jame, and at Coloigne.'

More than the mere desire to travel afield and to see
strange lands, came to be the longing to visit the home of
a great man who was dead the next best thing to looking
into his face and to hearing his voice. Thus, not only in
early Christian times, but still more earnestly in the Middle
Ages, the Church commended pilgrimages for the satisfaction
they afforded of visiting places invested with memories of
the Lord, or of men or women remarkable for their devotion
to Him and service for Him. A pilgrimage properly carried
out was a means of grace. Few acts cauld-bring^the'believer
into closer touch with the events his religion taught him to
commemorate, or with the blessed and holy ones who had
made his faith possible, or with the aids and helps which
opened up to him the way of happiness on earth and the
gates of the Kingdom, than frequenting the sites consecrated
by apostles, martyrs, confessors, or saints. Cicero spoke
of his joy when in Athens of thinking of the great men whose
work was done in that city : ' how here one had lived, and
there fallen asleep ; how here another had disputed, and
there lay buried.' St. Jerome did indeed insist that resi-
dence in Jerusalem has in itself no religious value : ' It is
not locality, but character, that avails, and the gates of
heaven are as open in Britain as in Jerusalem ' ; but Paula,
a wealthy Roman widow, and one of his friends who made
the tour of Palestine and Egypt with him, made nothing of
this assertion, which no one ever denied, and expressed a
truer idea of pilgrimage, when she told him, after her visit
to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, that ' As oft as we
enter its precincts we see the Saviour laid in the shroud, and
the angel seated at the feet of the dead ! ' She assured
Jerome that, in the Church of the Nativity at Bethlehem,
she beheld, with the eye of faith, the Christ-child wrapped
in swaddling clothes. Thus imagination was awakened,
and former scenes were reproduced, much to the delight
of the beholder and to the strengthening of his faith. The
ardent soul sees the past again. A like emotion urges the
modem traveller to go to Stratford-on-Avon, or to Stoke

216 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Pogis, oribo Abbotsf ord. So Christian people long ago felt,
and to some extent still feel, when wandering through Galilee
and Judea :

' In those holy fields

Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
For our advantage on the bitter cross.'

Nor are we surprised that as time went on, religious
teachers held that a special blessing and greater certainty
of answer awaited prayers offered in places where saints had
wrought and martyrs had died. From such spots lay a
more direct way to Paradise. Here, too, the maimed, the
halt, and the blind were cured ; and here thanksgiving to
God, and devotion to the glory of God, could be more easily
offered and would be more surely accepted. And to these
hallowed shrines came men, bowed down with crime, to
make expiation for sin and to seek forgiveness. Often-
times such pilgrimages were enjoined as the only, or at
least the readiest, means of atonement. Absolution was
frequently granted by papal Bull upon condition that
the penitent should visit certain places. The guardians of
such places made known the advantages of their particular
shrine or relics. After the manner of their day, they adver-
tised far and wide the terms and cost of the cure if not in
the style of modern vendors of quack remedies, yet quite
as much to the point. And the guilt-stained penitent not
only had to make himself known as such while on pilgrimage,
but on occasion a chain or ring was fastened round his body
that all men might know his condition. As one so distin-
guished passed through a village on his appointed way,
there is little doubt that the people by the wayside looked
upon him with awe, mingled with astonishment and pity,
and wondered at his extraordinary achievements in wicked-
ness. They were thankful that they were not as far gone as
he ; and he, if he were at all human, felt some satisfaction
in being the object of such close and kindly attention. Had
he not done wrong, no one would have noticed him. Per-
haps the spectators who saw him in his rags and chains drag
himself along wearily, with bare feet, bent shoulders, hatless
head, and face dripping with tears, thought not so much of
the heinousness of his crime as of the depth of his penitence.
He was indeed a bad man, conspicuous as such. He had
sinned beyond other men, but he had sorrowed more.

PILGRIMAGE 217

There is a story told of a fratricide in the ninth century
who wore three such rings as those just mentioned round
his body and arms, and travelled barefooted, fasting, and
devoid of linen. As he went on his way from church to
church, at one shrine one of the rings broke off of its own
accord, at another the second, and at another the third.
Thus proof was afforded of God's entire absolution. Which
reminds us of John Bunyan's Pilgrim.

' Now I saw in my Dream, that the highway up which
Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a Wall,
and that Wall is called Salvation. Up this way therefore
did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty,
because of the load on his back. He ran thus till he came
at a place somewhat ascending ; and upon that place stood
a Cross, and a little below in the bottom, a Sepulchre. So
I saw in my Dream, that just as Christian came up with the
Cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from
off his back, and began to tumble ; and so continued to do,
till it came to the mouth of the Sepulchre, where it fell in,
and I saw it no more.'

,Mark Pattison, the learned rector of Lincoln Colloge,
Oxford, in his Essay on Gregory of Tours, has a passage
which illustrates much that I have said :

' The truth is, that that magnetic influence which irresis-
tibly draws our feet to spots on which our imagination has
long fed, is an instinct of our nature, and that in this, as in
other respects, the Church did but take into her service,
and propose a fitting object to, an impulse which will vent
itself in some form or other. There have been pilgrims both
before and since the ages of faith, the ages when the Church
bore sway over every action of life. Only she sent them
to the tombs of saints, and martyrs, and filled their paths
with sacred associations, instead of leaving them to roam
at will in search of the relics of pagans or infidels, with Byron
or Rousseau in their pockets as the companions of their way.
The Church cannot be said to have created pilgrimages, or
even to have encouraged them she suffered them, and gave
them a direction which might, at least, edify. But qui
multum peregrinantur, raro sanctificantur is her doctrine.'

Evidences of the benefits of Christian pilgrimage abound.
For instance, the poet Prudentius, in the fourth century,
tells us that whenever he was sick in soul or body, he went
to the tomb of St. Hippolytus, perhaps the most frequented
at that time in Rome, and prayed there. He always found

218 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

help, and returned in cheerfulness: 'for God had vouch-
safed His saint the power to answer all entreaties.' At
such shrines every malady possible to man had its remedy.
It was not the fault of the relic if any one went away dis-
appointed. The penitent had come short in some condition.
An apparently never-ending series of miracles performed
there drove away all justification of unbelief. Even St.
Augustine asked: 'Who can fathom the design of God in
ordaining that this should happen at one place and not at
another ? '

They who question the reality of these wonders, as so
many are tempted to do in these days, should look into the
miracles alleged to happen, not frequently, but constantly,,
at Lourdes, or at Ste.-Anne de Beaupre, or at some of the
more obscure ' faith-curing ' establishments. I have said
something before on this point. No one can measure the
power of faith, more especially as faith exerts itself in certain
types of mind. The revivalist of the late eighteenth cen-
tury, or early nineteenth, had no doubt whatever of miracles
wrought spiritually in the passing over of sinners from death
into life, or physically in manifestations of Providence, such
as the healing of the sick or deliverance from danger. There
are people to-day who believe in wonders no less astonishing
than some which followed the preaching of John Wesley,
or of St. Francis of Assisi, or of St. Bernard of Clairvaux.
They look for wonders. The pilgrims of ages long since
past, full of faith, went to the shrine, and expected that to
happen which they desired. They were not surprised that
it did happen. The modern unbeliever does not expect
anything ; and he does not get anything.

The two chief pilgrim-resorts in the Christian world were
Jerusalem and Rome. Scarcely second to these, and far
above Walsingham, Tours, or Canterbury, was Compostella
in Galicia. Dante, in his comment on the twenty-third
sonnet in the Vita Nuova, beginning ' Deh peregrini,' pays
Compostella high tribute. Thus he defines the word
' Pilgrim ' :

' " Pilgrim " may be understood in two senses, one general,
and one special. General, so far as any man may be called
a pilgrim who leaveth the place of his birth ; whereas, more
narrowly speaking, he is only a pilgrim who goeth towards
or frowards the House of St. James. For there are three
separate denominations proper unto those who undertake
journeys to the glory of God. They are called Palmers

PILGRIMAGE 219

(Palmieri) who go beyond the seas eastward, whence often
they bring palm-branches. And Pilgrims (Peregrini), as I
have said, are they who journey unto the holy House of
Galicia ; seeing that no other apostle was buried so far from
his birthplace as was the blessed Saint James. And there
is a third sort who are called Romers (Eomei) ; in that they
go whither these whom I have called pilgrims went : which
is to say, unto Rome.'

Indeed, Compostella had an advantage above Rome, in
that, like 'Jerusalem, it was in a country overrun by the
Saracen, and had to be recovered from the hands of the
Misbeliever. Accordingly the Crusades ran in two direc-
tions : one for the rescue of the Sepulchre at Jerusalem, and
the other for the protection of the shrine at Compostella.
So important was it that Spain should be freed, that of all
the countries of Europe called upon to take part in the
advance to the Holy City, Spain alone was exempt. Pope
Paschal n. positively forbade Spanish knights to help in
Eastern Crusades. No Spanish warrior should go to Pales-
tine. He had enough to do at home. On; the other hand,
foreign knights from France, England, or elsewhere could
choose the Spanish Crusade.

Therefore the pilgrimage to Compostella had a popu-
larity, as the Crusade for the redemption of Spain had a
popularity, that attracted multitudes from Western Europe,
and especially from England. Not that the journey to
Compostella was chosen for its greater ease ; for, as Mon-
taigne reminds us, rareness and difficulty giveth esteem unto
things. ' Those of Marca d'Ancona, in Italy, make their
vows, and go on pilgrimage rather unto James in Galicia,
and those of Galicia rather unto our Lady of Loretto.' So
in All 's Well that Ends Well, Helena determines to leave
Florence and become ' Saint Jaques' pilgrim.' In the dress
of a pilgrim, at the gate of the city, she inquires of a widow,
' Where do the palmers lodge ? ' The widow takes her to
a place whence she may see the troops which chance to be
passing by, for it is a festive day. The march ended, the
widow addresses the fugitive gentlewoman :

' The troop is past : Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
Where you shall host : of enjoin'd penitents
There 's four or five, to Great Saint Jaques bound,
Already at my house.'

Needless to say, Helena did not find her way to Compostella.

220 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

In the year 1059, perhaps after attending the Lateran
Council under Nicholas n., in the April of that year, Wido,
archbishop of Mian, journeyed to St. James's shrine ; and
from that time on, Compostella became, especially in England,
a most favoured devotional resort. Don Diego Gelmirez left
nothing undone to enhance its attractions and popularity.
Nor did his successors display less zeal. By the thirteenth
century, the pilgrimage there was ranked on a level with
one to Rome or Jerusalem. In 1478, Pope Sextus rv.
officially declared it to be on that level. Indeed, the time
came when the Roman churches had to defend themselves
against the Spanish pilgrimage. The English poem entitled
the Stations of Rome, published a generation after Wycliffe's
death, calls attention to the Roman pilgrimage as equal in
value to the longer journeys to Jerusalem and Santiago de
Compostella, which alone rivalled it in the estimation of
the pious. For instance, it was quite as efficacious to attend
services in St. Paul's Church at Rome as to go to Com-
postella :

* Each Sunday in that minster
Thou shalt have as much pardon
As thou to Saint James went and come.'

Naturally, an adventure, like unto that to Jerusalem,
which took the wanderer over high mountains, through
strange regions, among hostile people, and beyond the seas,
secured for the pilgrim, if not greater privileges and advan-
tages, yet more praise and renown, than came from a journey
across the pleasant lands of Burgundy and Gascony, and
which passed into a country of which the legitimate owners
were Christianly inclined. Moreover, the Mohammedans
of Spain were less fierce and ferocious than the Moham-
medans of Syria. They were more tolerant, more inclined
to compromise, and more ready to trade and to intermarry
with their Christian neighbours. Rough and dangerous
though the way, it was comparatively an easier thing to go
to Compostella than to the Holy Land. The cost was less,
say, from England, the distance shorter, the inns and
hospices more frequent, and the companionship quite as
congenial. The business agent attended to his work with
equal diligence.

And the route over the Pyrenees was scarcely less romantic
than the passes over the Alps. But, as I have just said, for
some centuries the spiritual benefits were not thought to be

PILGRIMAGE 221

as great as those which came from the journey to the other
two great resorts, except possibly in one particular. The
angel-guardians at Jerusalem, and St. Peter and St. Paul at
Rome, had faulty memories. They were apt to forget the
name, plea, or devotion of both crusaders and pilgrims.
But St. James of Compostella never forgot. He might not
be able, or think it wise, to grant the favour desired at once,
but it was sure to come. There was a certainty about
St. James that defied all competitors. Compostella, there-
fore, afforded a safer choice. Indeed, the only crusade that
came near success was the one against the Moors in the
West.

Hence the swarms of wayfarers to Compostella. Dante,
in the Paradiso, speaks of the appearance of St. James :

* Lo ! lo ! behold the peer of mickle might,
That makes Galicia thronged with visitants.'

Multitudes from many parts of Europe Mariana says,
' from all parts of the world ' and especially from France
and England, from the twelfth to the sixteenth century,
thronged there. ' Many others,' according to Mariana,
' were deterred by the difficulty of the journey, by the rough-
ness and barrenness of those parts, and by the incursions
of the Moors, who made captives many of the pilgrims.'
The numbers, however, of those who persevered were enor-
mous. They were compared with the clouds of stars known
to us as the Milky Way. Indeed, that wondrous stream,
the stars of which are bluer than other stars, became El
Camino de Santiago, the galaxy of which Dante speaks in
the Convifo, ' that is, the white circle which the common
people call the Way of St. James.' According to a note
in the Oxford Dante, Biscioni, commenting on this, says :
' The common people formerly considered the Milky Way
as a sign by night to pilgrims who were going to St. James
of Galicia ; and this perhaps arose from the resemblance of
the word (Galaxy) to Galicia. I have often,' he adds,
' heard women and peasants call it the Roman road ' ' la
strada di Roma.' And Chaucer not only tells us that in
England some called it ' Watling Street ' ' the Watling
Street of the Sky,' so named from the great Roman road
which, according to Drayton,

' doth hold her way
From Dover to the farth'st of fruitful Anglesey ' ;

222 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

but he also speaks of it as the road to the world beyond
death :

' what wey we trace,

And rightful folk shal go, after they dye,
To heven ; and shewed him the galaxye.'

It was the way, too, that guided devout folk to the shrine
of our Lady at Walsingham, in Norfolk. Perhaps it is inter-
esting to note that Erasmus in the Colloquies makes one of
his characters, who knew nothing of St. Mary of Walsingham,
declare : ' I have often heard of James ' a somewhat late
testimony to the widespread popularity of the saint of
Compostella. Much earlier than this, men had learned to
shape their oaths by the Apostle. Said the Frankelyn to
Gamelyn :

* By seynt Jame in Galys, that many man hath sought.'

In early times to receive the pilgrim and to supply him
with alms was always considered the duty of every Christian.
To help pilgrims on their way was to have some share in the
benefits vouchsafed them. They were a means of grace.
Charlemagne made it a legal obligation to withhold neither
roof, hearth, nor fire from them. They travelled with letters
of commendation from their bishops to the clergy and laity,
which ensured them lodging in convents and other charitable
foundations, in addition to the protection of public officials.
This hospitality did much to alleviate the inconveniences
and dangers of the way. In Paris, after 1419, a special
hospice for the ' fraternity of St. James ' received and fed
each day from sixty to eighty pilgrims, and presented each
with a quarter of a denarius. Dr. Albert Hauck, Professor
of Church History in the University of Leipzig, tells us, in
his article on ' Pilgrimage ' in the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
that ' the pilgrims made their journey in grey cowls fastened
by a broad belt. On the cowl they wore a red cross ; and
a broad-brimmed hat, a staff, sack, and gourd completed
their equipment. During their travels the beard was
allowed to grow, and they prepared for departure by con-
fession and communion.' They were strengthened by the
assurance that in their own country every Sunday prayers
were publicly offered for them : probably each pilgrim's
name was mentioned before the altar in his own parish
church. At each stopping-place, not only were they pro-
vided with shelter and food, but the clergy and devout lay-

PILGRIMAGE 223

men cheered and encouraged them in their arduous under-
taking. Not unlikely, here and there, the lord through
whose manor the road lay sent an armed escort with the
strangers to guard them from the interference of robbers
and bandits who were on the watch for them. Perhaps,
knowing something of human nature, he would protect his
property from possible depredations by the pilgrims them-
selves. Even Christiana's boys, on their way to the Celestial
City, gathered and ate of the fruit from trees which shot
their branches over the wall. ' That fruit is none of ours,'
said the good woman ; but pilgrims were not always so
scrupulous as she. Many a farmer by the roadside may have
been glad when he saw the last of a passing company of
shrine-seekers.

Ever and anon, on their way, the devout wanderers
lightened their hearts and lifted up their voices in sacred
song. They chanted ancient psalms, after the manner of
Israelitish pilgrims on their journey to Jerusalem, especially
some of the fifteen which in the Authorized Version are
called ' Songs of Degrees ' the steps, or progressions, or
goings up : ' Levavi oculos meos in montes,' and ' Laetatus
sum in his.' Of the mediaeval hymns many are yet extant.
Even in the period of the Reformation, the highways of
Germany still rang with the * Song of St. James.' Professor
King, in the appendix to her Way of St. James, gives a Latin
version of the ' Great Hymn of St. James ' and of the ' Little
Hymn of St. James ' ; and a French version of ' La Grande
Chanson des Pelerins de S. Jacques ' in the refrain of which
the pilgrims pray that the Blessed Virgin and her Son Jesus
may give them grace

* Qu'en Paradis nous puissions voir
Dieu et Monsieur Saint- Jacques.'

So at the various stages on the four great roads which
led to Compostella from Tours, Vezelay, Le Puy, and Aries,
hospitality was provided by a chain of monasteries. A
Latin poem of the twelfth century describes the relief given
at the abbey of Roncesvalles. All who came were welcomed.
In her Mediaeval France, Miss Joan Evans says : ' At the
door a man offered bread, and took no price ; within, a
barber and a cobbler were at the service of the pilgrims.'
And she adds : ' There were .two hospices for the sick, with
beds and baths ; the cellars were reported to be full of
almonds, pomegranates, and other fruit. Even if the

224 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

pilgrim died there, his salvation was assured by sepulture in
holy ground.' And thus provision was made over the
frontier into Spain along the ' Camino franco's ' to Com-
postella.

At Leon was provided for pilgrims hospitality second to
none in generosity. Under the care of the prior and canons
of St. Eloi, the hospice of San Marcos, on the edge of the city,
kept open doors for all travellers on the Camino frances. In
the cathedral church of Leon were preserved the remains of
San Isidore of Seville, but in the pilgrims' church of San
Marcos, in 1184, was laid the body of the first master of
the Knights of St. James, the pure, large-hearted, and far-
seeing Don Pedro Fernandez. The pilgrims' debt to him
could never be paid. On the site of this hospice, which for
more than three hundred years sheltered pilgrims on their
way to Compostella, were founded in the early part of
the sixteenth century the present church and convent of
San Marcos. In many other places on the road south of the
Pyrenees, the brethren of St. Eloi maintained houses and
hospitals for pilgrims. If sick, the good fathers tended the
strangers ; and to each wanderer, after lodging and refresh-
ment, they gave provision for the next stage of the journey
and replenished the worn-out sandals and clothes. Indeed,
as I am not tired of reiterating, all the way along much was
done to encourage so holy and salutary a work as pilgrimage
was supposed to be.

For instance, the tolls exacted at the port of Monte Val-
carel weighed heavily on all travellers, especially on pilgrims,
entering the kingdom of Leon. All passers-by suffered more
or less from excessive charges. The grievances cried to
heaven. Nor did the pilgrims suffer in silence. No one
ever did in those days. ' They were never heard in the king-
dom of Leon without maledictions and indignation against
this intolerable custom.' I confess that while I love to
think of pilgrims and all other men of God singing, I do not
care to hear of them swearing, even though I can imagine
the act not to have been altogether unknown to that ' Son
of Thunder ' whose favours they desired and in those
mediaeval days swearing had a vigour and comprehensive-
ness long since weakened. Even the simple-minded native
folk were affected by the blunt and appalling language of
the strangers from beyond the mountains, from Burgundy,
and Brabant, and Britain. So that, in the year 1073,
Alfonso vi., in taking possession of Leon and Castile,

PILGRIMAGE 225

that lie might remove such causes of offence out of the land,
and add to the honour and glory of God and of the Blessed
Virgin and of the Apostle St. James, to use his own lan-
guage, ' abolished the toll for ever, that all, of whatsoever
condition,' says the Espana Sagrada, ' could pass freely and
without annoyance or inquietude, in such wise that this road
to Santiago should be entirely free to pilgrims, and even to
those who carried merchandise, or went on any other business
whatsoever.'

It is probable that the instances were many in which
pilgrims were relieved of paying tolls at crossing bridges,
entering or leaving towns, or passing through the territories
of bishops or barons. I am not surprised at this ; but the
vehemence and persistency with which pilgrims protested
against aught that they considered evil, and secured the
removal of such, reminds me of the Parable of the Unjust
Judge ; or rather, perhaps, of the householder whose neigh-
bour came at night to borrow of him three loaves ' though
he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet
because of his importunity he will rise and give him as
many as he needeth.' I am afraid that many of the pilgrims,
good and gentle as they were supposed to be, were not slow
in asking or mild in their demands. But then, on the other
hand, some of them were notorious sinners and had not over-
come the evils which beset them.

Even to the benevolent and long-suffering St. James him-
self pilgrims were sometimes trying enough to provoke him
to displeasure ; especially when they presumed on his kind-
ness or wilfully misinterpreted the purpose of pilgrimage.
At least a legend is told that in the year 1100 a citizen of
Barcelona came to Compostella, and prayed that he might
never be made a captive. His business took him to Sicily,
and he feared the Saracens. But St. James, though, when
a fisherman in Galilee, oftentimes he may have prayed for
fair weather, a successful expedition, and a good market,
had now no respect for petitions pertaining to trade. He
left the suppliant to himself ; the Saracens had their will of
him. The trader was taken, and thirteen or fourteen times
he was led to fairs bound in chains to be sold. He fell from
one disaster into another. Then after the last sale he was
bound in double chains ; and in his wretchedness he cried
again and again, and more imploringly than ever, to St.
James for help. The Saint appeared to him, much in the
temper that Moses displayed when he struck the rock, and

226 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

thus addressed the captive : ' Because thou wert in my
church at Santiago, and thou settest nothing by the health
of thy soul, but demandest only the deliverance of thy body,
these perils have befallen thee ; but because God is merciful
and sorry for thee, He hath sent me to take thee from this
prison.' One version says : ' He hath sent me for to buy
thee ' ; but as we never read of St. James buying anything,
this must have been a slip. It does not matter. Forth-
with his chains broke. He set out in his bare feet and
scanty clothing for home. ' And he, bearing a part of the
chains, passed by the countries and castles of the Saracens,
and came home into his own country in the sight of all men,
which were abashed of the miracle. For when any man
would have taken him, as soon as they saw the chain they
were afeard and fled. And when the lions and other beasts
would have ran on him, in the deserts whereon he went,
when they saw the chain they were afeard that they fled
away.' We know that this story is true, for he who tells it,
and he was none other than Pope Calixtus, says that he saw
the merchant on his way back to Santiago, and the merchant
told it to him. You may read the story yourself in the
Acta Sanctorum or in the Golden Legend, and that which
you do not find in the one you may see in the other.

This legend, for the preservation of which we cannot be
too thankful, not only suggests the troubles which befell
pilgrims owing to their own shortsightedness, and the benefit
,of importunate prayer, but also illustrates the character of
the Apostle. It is comforting to know that even saints have
weaknesses. After his enthronement as Patron of all Spain,
St. James still kept his impatience and habit of sharp-
speaking ; nor did he hesitate at stealing another man's
property. For, as all men in those days would have ad-
mitted, whether Jew, Christian, or Saracen, a slave was a
lawful possession : bought and paid for. Though stolen in
the first place, he who now owned him suffered loss in his
abstraction, and if inveigled away no compensation was
afforded him. Hence you see the reasonableness of the
slip in the Golden Legend, where the Apostle speaks of buying
the captive* The chronicler's own conscience and sense of
propriety moved him to write what the Apostle should have
said. Undoubtedly St. James should have bought the man.
The question is of little consequence ; but one feels all the
more drawn to the Apostle because he is so much one of us.
He did just the thing we should have done had we been in

PILGRIMAGE 227

his place. And this is another reason why St. James was
so popular with the sinners of Western Europe. He was so
like them, that he understood them, and could sympathize
with them.

And yet, as to complaints, the wanderers doubtless had
reason enough for them or, at least, thought they had.
Some people cannot help seeing more than they should, or
reading things the wrong way. To them slight incon-
veniences or unusual conditions become grievances. But
apart from such, there were, as we shall see more fully
further on, troubles real and obtrusive. Some were un-
avoidable, and strangers ran unwittingly and yet expect-
antly into them. To the people of every nation, things
foreign, outside their own country, were usually inferior,
if not obnoxious, and therefore to be condemned. The
English grumbled at the customs of the Burgundians and
the Gascons : even as these people censured them. It may
have been a considerate provision of Nature, to make people
content with their own. Professor King says that ' the
score of early travellers whom I have read did all most
wonderfully hate Spain ' ; and she adds, ' English travellers
are the loudest in their complaints, the most outrageous-
mannered.' The pilgrims necessarily had to do more with
the northern part of the peninsula a region mountainous,
difficult of access, rough, primitive. It was a wretched,
detestable country, according to some : one that sinners
indeed deserved to encounter, partly as punishment, and
partly as preparation ; a land of dismal valleys, where
demons and hobgoblins preyed on passers-by ; one that
God is ashamed of and man would gladly shun ; thin wine
and hard bread ; coarse beds, rooms either stiflingly hot or
freezingly cold ; rains driven by eddying, whirling winds,
merciless and untiring ; rude, supercilious, untrustworthy
people. The Spaniards themselves had a proverb about
the fare encountered on the way : ' Camino frances, venden
gato por res.'

By way of contrast, however, with the more troubled side
of pilgrimage, and as a pleasant ending to the present
chapter, I take this picture from the immortal allegory.

It will be remembered by all readers of The Pilgrim's
Progress that the good innkeeper Gaius, that noble lover of
pilgrims, after he had refreshed Christiana and her party with
tales of the martyrs ' There was he that was hanged up in
a basket in the sun, for the wasps to eat ' and with two

228 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

dishes very fresh and good,' brought forth a bottle of wine,
' red as blood.' If you will you can see the old English
hostel, its stone-paved floor, oak furniture, low ceiling, wide
chimney-place, where hang the flitches in clean, black
smoke, and the broad-faced, merrily-girthed, smiling host,
his heart overflowing with gladness at the joy of his guests.
The boys were given a ' dish of milk well crumbed ' that is,
thickly clotted, like, say, Devonshire cream, a perfectly
harmless beverage, thoroughly safe for those of tender years ;
but the older folk drank of that which Gaius declared made
glad the heart of God and man, ' and were merry ' ' Then
were they very merry, and sat at the table a long time,
talking of many things.' Many a clean, wistful reader has
longed to go on a like journey, and meet with a like hos-
pitality. And, passing from the picture of that delightful
evening at the roadside inn, I have wondered what was that
' something to drink ' which the grave and beautiful damsel
Discretion gave to Christian on his arrival at the House
Beautiful. At supper there, ' the table was furnished with
fat things, and with wine well refined' ; and a few days
later Christian was sent on his way with ' alloaf of bread, a
bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins ' not bad fare for a
pilgrim.

CHAPTER XVIII
ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS

IN an earlier chapter of this study will be found a sketch of
the itinerary preserved by Purchas. It is true the spelling
is venturesome and picturesque, especially in the names of
the towns, but as an exercise in phonetic orthography, so
popular in these days, the document is invaluable. The
route described is the one usually taken by pilgrims to
Santiago : forsaken now, but famous then ' the road on
which millions of shoes were worn out, and infinities of feet
were blistered ' ; but some landed at Bordeaux or at Bayonne,
and thence journeyed in the common way to San Jean Pied
de Port.

Other references have been made to maps and manuals
prepared to furnish the pilgrim with all necessary infor-
mation. Perhaps the most significant of these books is
one said to have been compiled in the early part of the
twelfth century, some parts possibly by one Aymery Picaud,
and other parts by equally well-known and observant
travellers. The authorship matters but little. Nor does it
follow that sections ascribed to any particular person were
written by him. They may merely contain information
given by him. The story is told on his testimony. Pro-
fessor King records the eleven chapters of which this Pilgrim's
Guide consists, and from "which inquirers may learn of the
several ways to Santiago ; the stages and cities on the way ;
the good and the bad rivers, the names of the lands and the
sorts of people who inhabit them, and the bodies of the saints
that should be visited ; and particulars of the city and
church of St. James. Herein may also be found the hymns
to the saint, and a sketch of his history and miracles. Close
attention is given to the water : * I have described/ says
Aymery, ' the rivers that pilgrims going to St. James should
study to avoid drinking the deadly and be able to choose
those which are fit to drink.' He apostrophizes the Hospice
on Mount Joy, whence the pilgrims had their first sight of
the towers of Compostella : ' Holy spot, house of God,

229

230 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

refreshment of saints, repose of pilgrims, comfort of the
needy, health of the sick, succour of the quick and the
dead 1 '

At this place are cairns built of limestone, each pilgrim
carrying a piece from Triacastela, a distance of twenty-five
leagues, to make mortar for the building of Santiago.
Aymery speaks of the river in the woods, about two miles
from Compostella, where the pilgrims washed themselves
and their clothes : from which custom the brook is called
Lavamentula. Of the pilgrims, Aymery praises his country-
men from Picardy : they are heroes and warriors ; but the
men from Bordeaux speak a patois, and Gascons are vain
of speech, ragged, drunken, and gluttonous. To the Basques
he gives an entire treatise, and of their language, which
sounds like the barking of dogs, a list of necessary words.
According to him, the pilgrim's difficulties are mostly over
when he leaves Navarre and enters Castile. This happy
land he loves for its foison of gold and silver, its stately
houses and strong horses, provision for all seasons, bread
and wine, meat and fish, milk and honey ; but yet the woods
are desolate. The distance from Port de Cize, on the
frontier between Pied-de-Port and Pamplona, to Santiago
takes thirteen days, * some not long, some so long that they
must be done on horseback.'

With Aymery Picaud in mind, one remembers that in the
road of which he speaks from San Jean Pied-de-Port to
Pamplona, under the mountains, as Froissart tells us, there
are narrow and perilous passages : a hundred places where
a hundred men may keep against all the world, as Oliver
and Roland found to their cost. Through these defiles, in
the cold February of 1367, Edward the Black Prince, lord
of Aquitaine, eldest son of Edward in., brother of John of
Gaunt, and father of Richard n., led an army on its way
to replace Pedro the Cruel on the throne of Castile. You
may read elsewhere of the battles which followed ; only. I
remember that according to Froissart the Black Prince
regularly opened battle with prayer, just as any old Crom-
wellian would have done. Nothing thrills one's heart more
joyfully than the thought of such a Greatheart, with the
praises of God in his mouth and a two-edged sword 'in his
hand, going forth to fight the battle of the Lord. I do not
know that St. James came to the Black Prince, as he always
did to Roland when Roland called him ; but I have little
doubt that the Apostle helped him to put Pedro once more

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 231

back into power. This done, the following August the
Black Prince again brought his soldiers through Ronces-
valles, and returned to Bordeaux. With the Black Prince
was that celebrated commander, the hero of Poitiers, Sir
John Chandos, now within three years of his last battle and
of his death.

It is not unlikely that memories and associations such as
these helped the pilgrim to enliven the dullness of his
journey.

Besides this somewhat elaborate guide-book, from time
to time others were put forth. The Cluniac monks, who
seem to have taken the pilgrimage through France and
Spain to Compostella especially under their care, not only
looked after the roads and the hospices, but also had an eye
to the instructions for travellers. Christopher Columbus's
son, in the year 1535, at the fair of Leon, bought for two-
pence a broad-sheet describing the road from Paris to
St. James in Galicia. Brave efforts were made to help those
who desired thus to see the world. And who does not so
wish? ' For all,' said a publisher in 1547, ' who come into
this life are travellers.' He who would pleasantly while
away a spare hour can find in these old guide-books most
excellent material. If he will, he can bring to mind the
pilgrims, as they would pass a dangerous point or cross
a trembling bridge or turbulent ferry, say one to another,
' Comrade, go you first ! ' He may hear the songs : ' Plain-
tive, interminable, strung out with the itinerary of the
journey, wailing on like the endless litanies that children's
shrill voices sing on hot summer evenings.'

So much care, indeed, was taken to further the pilgrim on
his way, and so entrancingly did the promoters of pilgrimages
describe the countries through which the road ran, the good
victuals to be had, the wine and the eels, the generosity
of the convents and the hospices, the abundant blessings
given at small cost by the wayside-saints, that one_jwonders
if the pilgrimage did not, in spite of the possible discomforts
and dangers, becpmejsbmetim.es as pleasant a journey _as
that ^wMckjQhjaJ^ It could

not have been all gloom ""anSr~anxiety. It is said that Sir
Walter Raleigh declared that he liked enemies because they
gave him exercise, and friends because they gave him peace.
Probably few knights on pilgrimage thought otherwise.
They hailed the appearance of a possible adversary with a
joy like unto that of the Spanish hero when he saw the wind-

232 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

mills. No happier diversion could befall such noble souls.
But an even more benevolent spirit sometimes came to such, t
a spirit which could make use of a friend as cheerfully as
of an enemy. At least, we hear that, in 1402, De Werchin,
seneschal of Hainault, a valiant soldier and of much fame
for his skill in tournaments, announced far and wide his
project of a pilgrimage to St. James of Spain, and his willing-
ness and intention to accept the friendly combat-at-arms
with any knight for whom he should not have to turn from
his road more than twenty leagues. This was generosity
itself, and presents a picture unlike that of a barefooted,
trudging, downcast wayfarer, worrying over his sins. The
belligerent warrior laid out his itinerary beforehand, so that,
being warned, any one might make ready for his offer. One
feels that so ready a ' son of thunder,' so like in spirit to him
who led the Christian hosts against the Moors, would be
more than welcomed at Compostella. This may not have
been by any means a unique instance of the desire to gladden
the fretful, tiresome journey.

But, for all that, and for much more that might be said
on that aspect of pilgrimage, even as we have already
gathered, there were for most people perils in the way, real,
serious, and numerous. One realizes this in turning the
leaves of the guide-books and books of travel ; and I shall
go on to speak of them more fully.

We are told, sorrowfully and reproachfully enough some-
times, that, faint at heart and weak in faith, many Christian
people were held back from availing themselves of the
advantages and blessings of this pilgrimage to Santiago.
They were confronted by rumours of difficulties almost
insurmountable ; by warnings of the roughness and barren-
ness of long tracts of country through which the road led,
and of the not infrequent rudeness and even savagery of
the natives, and the exactions of their lords ; and by stories
of the incursions of the Moors, who ever and anon made
captives of the pilgrims. Many travellers who survived the
dangers and returned to their homes in safety had sorry
tales to tell and possibly wounds and scars to show. Some
never got back. They may have died from disease or mal-
treatment ; others might be languishing in dungeons or
toiling hopelessly in slavery : no one knew what had become
of them. These misadventures were not sufficient in number
to break up the custom, but they had to be thought of,
even though they increased the merits of the act. We have

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 233

seen that the Order of St. James of the Sword was founded,
not only to fight the Moors, but also to protect pilgrims on
their way to Compostella. By facing the Moors in battle
one could add the rewards of Crusade to those of Pilgrimage.
The Moors, however, were not the only or the chief
aggressors. Richard the First, king of England and duke
of Aquitaine, himself a pilgrim, and still more a crusader of
immortal fame, took upon himself the duty of avenging
the wrongs done to devout strangers seeking the succour
and comfort of St. James. Tidings reached him of the
evils encountered by pilgrims, not only as they journeyed
through his own territory, but particularly as they dared
to pass through Roncesvalles. Here the barbarians assailed
them without pity. The king's spirit was aroused. After
his Christmas feast at Bordeaux, he proceeded with an army
against Dax and Bayonne to suppress the prevailing law-
lessness and insurrection, and, conquering as he went, he
pushed his way over the mountains as far as the ' Gates of
Cezare ' or ' Port of Cize,' on the very borders of Spain.
He dealt out punishment to the rustics who violated travellers
and pilgrims. As the Dictionary of National Biography puts
it : ' He forced the Basques and Navarrese into a reluctant
peace, and compelled the freebooters of the Pyrenees to
renounce their evil habit of plundering the pilgrims to Com-
postella.' He did not, however, succeed in suppressing the
evil. In 1188, Raynmnd of Toulouse, in defiance of ecclesi-
astical law, arrested some English knights on their return
from Compostella. Richard invaded Toulouse, and again did
determined service against the highwaymen. In due time
he reached the castle of William or Walter de Chisi, a
notorious offender against the rights and lives of pilgrims.
He laid siege to the castle ; took it ; and, in June 1190, flung
the lord thereof into prison. Roger de Hoveden, writing a
few years later, and with full knowledge of the expedition
against the plunderer's stronghold, says that Richard ' took
it and hanged William himself, the lord of that castle, for
that he had robbed pilgrims to Compostella and others that
passed over his domains.'

Among the devices used to beguile pilgrims to their hurt,
we hear of sleeping-draughts. In a treatise written about
the year 1370 by John Arderne, the earliest known of the
great British surgeons, we are given a recipe to make a man
sleep against his will, as is done by ribalds and tramps in
France, that associate themselves on the way with pilgrims

234 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

that they may rob them of their silver when they are asleep.
In this recipe they who would use it are directed to take
henbane, darnel, black poppy, and bryony root : ' brek al-
to-gidre in a brazen morter into ful smal poudre, of which
poudre giffe hym in his potage or in a kake of whete or in
drynk ; and he schal slepe alsone, wille he wil he noght,
al-aday or more, after the quantite that he hathe taken.'
I do not say that the doctor gave this recipe to encourage
pilgrim-robbers : but this was their way, and an effective
way too, of putting men to sleep. It may be used for good
as well as for ill. There is a pitiful story of the murder of
a pilgrim in Chaucer's ' Nonne Priestes Tale ' in which,
by the way, it is shown that dreams sometimes come true.

Richard the Lion-hearted, indeed, believed not only in
securing the safety of pilgrims, but also in the punishment of
crime. Perhaps not more than did other princes of his time ;
but it so chances that I have him just now in mind. Soon
after he wreaked vengeance on the lord of Chisi, he had a
fleet sailing to the Holy Land on a crusade. According to
Roger de Hoveden, he set forth some rules to be observed
on this fleet rules of justice, the king called them : prob-
ably shaped on laws observed generally on board ship. If
such rules obtained on vessels carrying pilgrims, violations
of justice would be rare. But this is doubtful. ' Who-
soever,' says the king, ' shall kill a man on board ship, let
him be bound to the corpse and cast into the sea ; but if
he kill him on land, let him be bound to the corpse and buried
alive.' If a man wounded another, he should lose his hand.
If he cursed or reviled his fellow, he should pay him an
ounce of silver for every oath. Stealing had its punishment
thus : ' If any robber be convicted of theft, let him be shorn
like a champion, and boiling pitch be poured over his head,
and let the feathers of a feather-bed be shaken over his
head, that all men may know him ; and at the first spot
where the ships shall come to land, let him be cast forth.'
One wonders if anything went wrong among the men of
Richard's army ! Thus provision was made to keep the
crusaders safe and sound. If Richard could have had his
way, as William of Chisi found to his cost, he would have
guarded the pilgrims to Compostella in like manner.

English pilgrims usually went to Compostella by sea, or
at least pr.rb of the \vay. perhaps a^ 1 i'9,r as Bordeaux ; and
thereby they had opportunities in plenty to do penance
beforehand, and offer their sufferings to St. James. The

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 235

transportation of pilgrims became a business of no little
magnitude. It took high place among the country's in-
dustries, and was as well organized and carried on as any
other commercial enterprise. Meets of vessels plied
towards Galicia from many English ports. The earliest
sailing directions we possess are assigned to the reign of
Edward rv., and include the coasts of Spain and Portugal.
It is curious that no matter how costly or difficult an under-
taking religious people feel called upon to make, there are
always men of the world, men who profess no religion what-
ever, to help them. They cannot do without each other.
Religion needs worldliness, and worldliness needs religion.
The mason will build a church into which he never expects
to enter as a worshipper ; the mariner will take the ship
to a shrine at which he will never kneel. For such the good-
ness of others is a means of livelihood. It was no less so in
the Middle Ages than it is in our own times. And, on the
other hand, we may be sure, human nature being what it is,
that devotion to St. James, though the chief, was not always
the only motive that led men to cross the seas. It is possible
to have an eye to material things and to spiritual things
at one and the same time. The principle that a man cannot
serve God and Mammon may be true, but that does not
preclude the effort, especially on the part of pilgrims ; and
not only on the part of mediaeval pilgrims, but also of men
and women of the present day. You can say your prayers
at Lourdes, and you can also buy laces at Paris. Both may
turn to your advantage. What I mean is, that men and
women of the twelfth century were no worse than are men
and women of the twentieth ; and if the former sometimes
had two ideas moving them to go across that dreary sea
to Compostella, the like ideas move the latter to-day to
do no less incongruous things if, after all, they are in-
congruous.

The voyage across the English Channel and the Bay of
Biscay is not always pleasant even in these times, with our
superior accommodation ; but in the days of which we are
writing it was apt to be insufferable. The vessels were
small and inconvenient. In the twelfth and thirteenth cen-
turies a ship was measured by the tuns of Bordeaux it
carried when laden. Eighty tuns was a good-sized cargo ;
a hundred tuns exceptional ; but by the fourteenth century
cargoes of two hundred tuns were heard of. A very
large ship, such as the Blanche, Nef, in which Henry the

236 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

First's son William was lost in 1120, could carry three or
four hundred persons. No pilgrim-ships were, of that size.
The number of men and women they conveyed ran from
thirty to a hundred, according to the capacity of the vessel.
The passengers were crowded and huddled together in the
most uncomfortable fashion. Of course, then as now, rank
and wealth could ameliorate some inconveniences ; but the
mass of pilgrims were comparatively poor and of low degree.
Their funds in hand, though small, may have made a con-
siderable sum, only they needed every penny, and had
nothing to spend on luxuries. Sir Henry Ellis, in com-
menting on a letter from the earl of Oxford to King Henry
the Sixth, asking for a licence for a ship, of which he was
the owner, to carry pilgrims, says that ships were every year
loaded from different ports with cargoes of these deluded
wanderers, who carried with them large sums of money to
defray the expenses of their journey. It was not thought
wise to encourage the spending of money in foreign parts.

Jusserand, in his English Wayfaring Life, gives a copy of a
licence for a ship to carry pilgrims, dated 1394 :

' The King, to all and each of his admirals, etc., greeting.

' Know you that we have given licence to Oto Chamber-
noun, William Gilbert, and Richard Gilbert, to receive and
embark in the harbour of Dartmouth a hundred pilgrims
in a certain ship belonging to the same Oto, William, and
Richard, called la Charite de Paynton, of which Peter Cok
is captain ; and to take them to Saint James, there to fulfil
their vows, and from thence to bring them back to England,
freely and without hindrance, notwithstanding any ordi-
nances to the contrary.'

As I have said, little was done on board for the comfort
of the passengers. Many of them were sinners anyway, and
did not deserve gentle treatment. The journey to Com-
postella was no better in this respect than that to the Holy
Land ; and in his Information for Pylgrimes unto the Holy
Londe, another of our guide-books, Wynkin de Worde ad-
monishes each pilgrim to provide himself with ' a lytell
cawdron, a fryenge panne, dysshes, platers, cuppes of glass,
... a fether bed, a matrasse, a pylawe, two payre sheets,
and a quylte.' The traveller took his own provisions, except
when on land he could replenish his wallet, perhaps by beg-
ging. He cooked for himself, or, possibly, for the company
with which he was associated. It was a dreary voyage :
rolling seas and a ship tossing like cork. The little craft

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 237

did its best, but its best meant misery. A contrary wind,
a rising sea, increased and prolonged the horror. In bad
weather, the deck would be swept from stem to stern with
deep breaking waves and clouds of spray, while in foul air
and ceaseless pitch and toss, and crowds of helpless folk, and
noise indescribable, the spaces below presented aspects of
hell rather than of earth. Happy was he who could think
of these pains as part of the penance whereby sin might be
removed, and St. James be made to realize and to reward
the depth of faith and the assurance of hope !

The Early English Text Society, in the year 1867, printed
a ballad, from a manuscript in Trinity College, Cambridge,
of the time of Henry the Sixth, describing the hardships of
the ' Pilgrims' Sea-Voyage and Sea-Sickness.' It begins
by admonishing the pilgrim that he must not think of
merriment or of enjoying himself :-

u / '

' Man may leue alle gamys,
That saylen to seynt Jamys ! '

What with sea-sickness, the jostling of the mariners as they
trim the sails, the unpleasant smells, the loss of appetite,
there was no chance for play or laughter. The marginal
comments in this version on the text may give some idea
of real penance in pilgrimage :

' You leave all fun behind you when you sail to St. James's !

Directly you get on board

your heart fails ;

the shipmen make ready,

hollow,

order you out of their way,

and haul at the sails.

" Put the boat ready ; our Pilgrims

will groan ere night."

" Haul up the bowline

Poor Pilgrims, can't eat !

Steward, a pot of beer !

How well she sails !

Steward, lay the cloth ;

give 'em bread and salt for dinner."

" Storm 's coming."

The poor Pilgrims have their bowls bv them,

and cry out for hot Malmsey ;

they can neither eat boiled nor roast.

" My head will split in three," says one.

238 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

The shipowner comes to see that all 's right.
The cabins are made ready.'

' A sak of strawe were there ryght good,
Ffor som must lyg theym in theyr hood ;
I had as lefe he in the wood,

Without mete or drynk ;
For when that we shall go to bedde,
The pumpe was nygh oure beddes hede,
A man were as good to be. dede

As smell thereof the stynk ! '

And yet, notwithstanding the ills of the voyage, the ram-
shackle cabins, the jeers of the sailors, the lack of sacks of
straw on which to sleep, people who could gather together
the cost, and whose wickedness was sufficient to require such
drastic treatment, shrank not. Through many generations,
the pilgrimage maintained its popularity. In the fifteenth
century the number of English pilgrims was great. Rymer
mentions 916 licences granted in 1428 ; and in 1434,
Henry vi. granted permission to 2433 of his subjects to
go to Compostella. These did not all go by sea. Large
numbers went by land. Such were the throngs much earlier.
Ford says . '' At 'die marriage of our Edward I. in 1254, with
Leonora, sister of Alonzo el Sabio, a protection to English
pilgrims was stipulated for ; but they came in such numbers
as to alarm the French, insomuch that, when Enrique n.
was enabled by the latter to dethrone Don Pedro, he was
compelled by his allies to prevent any English from enter-
ing Spain without the French king's permission. The cap-
ture of Santiago by John of Gaunt increased the difficulties,
by rousing the suspicions of Spain also.'

Pilgrims about to start on their journeys were obliged
to bind themselves upon oath not to do anything contrary
to the obedience and fealty they owed the king. They
must not take out of the realm gold or silver in money or
bullion beyond what is necessary to their journey ; nor
may they reveal the secrets of the kingdom. Penalties
awaited those who violated these conditions. The expenses
had to be assured : no man travelled free in those days any
more than he can in these times, and in business then, as
now, people kept their eyes open. Of course, some pilgrims
were poor, for si$ which require pilgrimage assail man
irrespective of his financial condition ; but in that case, he
had to give evidence should he journey by land that he
could fairly support himself on the way, perhaps by odd

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 239

jobs or by begging, or should he go by sea that he had the
means already in hand. The means might be provided by
contributions from charitable people, his friends, neigh-
bours, or the. parish in which he lived. In these days,
sympathy and help freely go out to a sufferer, without means,
who is afflicted with some disease which can be treated only
at some hospital or by some physician or surgeon far away.
They who know the patient will join together and bear the
expense. In olden time, at least so men thought, there were
sins that no priest or confessor near by could cure, delin-
quencies beyond the help of the saints within easy reach :
extraordinary spiritual diseases. As we do with people
troubled physically, so then good-hearted men and women
came to the rescue. For instance, there were two guilds at
Lincoln, one that of the Fullers, founded in 1297, and the
other that of the Resurrection, founded in 1374, that had
this rule : ' If any brother or sister wishes to make pilgrim-
age to Rome, St. James of Galicia, or the Holy Land, he shall
forewarn the gild ; and all the brethren and sisteren shall
go with him to the city gate, and each shall give him a half-
penny at least.' A certain kindness was always meted out
to pilgrims, both before they started and while carrying out
their purpose. They were sinners above other sinners,
adepts in wickedness, and therefore objects of curiosity,
perhaps of some admiration, for it took an extraordinary
man to commit an extraordinary sin. Moreover, the hand
of God was against them. There is little doubt that
people who had escaped such lapses thanked God for
their immunity, and at the same time pitied their un-
fortunate fellow-beings. If we do not appreciate their
disposition, it is probably for the simple reason that in
these days there is no such keen consciousness of the nature
and danger of sin, or the certainty of punishment, as was
entertained by Christian people in the Middle Ages. They
thought of spiritual diseases much as we think of physical
sicknesses : deplorable and woeful calamities. Therefore
they pitied the penitent ; and, if necessary, they behaved
towards him generously. They gave of their substance
towards the expense. So that by the time the sinner was
ready to embark on his voyage the cost had been secured.
Otherwise he could not sail. There were no free passages.
Shipowners and shipmasters had nothing to do with the
religious side of pilgrimages.

Sometimes it happened that people made the vow of

240 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

pilgrimage, and afterwards discovered that they could not
carry it out. Either health gave way, or conditions had
changed adversely, or the means could not be found. Con-
tributions would not always come in ; and there were people
who could not accept help of that kind. In such contin-
gencies, especially should the penitent have taken the cross
of his own accord, and not as penance for any particular
transgression, the Church allowed the redemption of the
vow by a fine. Professor Coulton gives an instance from
the registers of Archbishop Giffard of York, about the year
1270, in which commutation was allowed two women of
the diocese. The document runs thus :

' To our beloved daughters in God, Helewysa Palma and
Isabella her daughter, greeting etc.

' As we hear from your own confession, ye have made a
vow some time since to go on a pilgrimage to St. James of
Compostella, but because ye cannot fulfil the said vow on
the plea of poverty, at your own urgent request we, by our
Apostolic authority, have thought fit to convert your vow
into a subsidy for the Holy Land, granting you the cross
and enjoining that ye pay two shillings sterling in succour
of the Land aforesaid, whensoever the collectors specially
deputed for this work shall demand it of you.'

Among the guide-books provided for pilgrims, the phrase-
books must not be overlooked. The Early English Text
Society, in 1900, reprinted a little work of Dialogues in
French and English, published by William Caxton about
1483, based upon an early fourteenth-century book of like
nature compiled at Bruges. The page quoted by Professor
Coulton in his Social Life in Britain gives a fair idea of the
whole, and is worth reading. It begins with the admoni-
tion : ' Yf ye owe ony pylgremages, so paye them hastely '
which makes one recall the style of advice given in old
time to apprentices, ' Get out of debt as soon as possible.'
Running the eye down this page, one comes to this" para-
graph. After bargaining with her guests, and in answer
to their demand, 'Bring us to sleep; we are weary,' the
hostess says, 'Well, I goo, ye shall reste. Jenette, lyghte
the candell ; and lede them ther above in the solere tofore ;
and bere them hoot watre for to wasshe their feet ; and
covere them with quysshones ; se that the stable be well
shette.' Can one not still hear the innkeeper's buxom wife
giving her orders to the chambermaid ? And the heavy
feet and trailing staves following the fat, slatternly, good-

ITINERARIES AND GUIDE-BOOKS 241

natured Cinderella up the stone steps to the sleeping chamber !
A practical, sensible woman that hostess, equal to any
emergency and able to answer aliy question !

The huge logs blaze cheerfully on the wide hearth. The
tired hounds throw themselves down in the warmth. The
gaffer finds the corner in the deep chimney where he may
have his forty winks in comfort. Here and there loll weary
folk, hunters, shepherds, labourers, and the like, the day's
work over, the leathern jacks replenished to the brim. The
goodwife is here, there, and everywhere, mistress of all and
afraid of none. Out of the chill, darkening night come
strangers. They hail the hostess. So runs the phrase-book :

' Dame, God be here ! '

' Felaw, ye be welcome.'

' May I have a bedde here withinne ? May I here be
logged ? '

' Ye, well and clenly, alle were ye twelve, alle on horse-
back.'

' Nay, but we thre. Is there to ete here within ? '

' Ye, ynough, God be thanked.'

' Brynge it to us. Gyve heye to the hors, and strawe them
well ; but see that they be watred.'

The strangers are well satisfied. They call the hostess.

' Dame, what owe we ? We have ben well easyd.'

The hostess is polite. The morning will do.

' We shall rekene to-morrow, and shall paye also, that ye
shall hold you plesid.'

In due time, both sun and pilgrims arise, doubtless re-
freshed ; and we can imagine the travellers holding converse
with the hostess. Here is a typical question :

' Dame, may men goo by ship from hens to Boloyne ? '

' Ye, now ther is a shippe redy ful of peple. God wel them
conduyte ! God brynge them in savete ! '

So the pilgrims set out not necessarily this morning after
the night at the inn we have suggested, but at any time ;
and the phrase-book admonishes its readers thus :

' Whan ye be mevyed for to goo your viage, and ye knowe
not the waye, so axe it thus, in comending the peple to god :

' " To god, goode peple ; I goo to Saynt James (or, to
our lady of Boloyne). At whiche gate shall I goo out, and at
whiche hande shall I take my way ? '

' " On the right hande, whan ye come to a brigge, so goo
ther over ; ye shall f ynde a lytill waye on the lyfte honde,
whiche shall brynge you in a centre there shall ye see upon

Q

242 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

a chirohe two hye steples ; fro thens shall ye have but four
myle unto your loggyng. There shall ye be well easyd for
your money, and ye shall have a good Jorne." '

These were the things which the pilgrim who used the
phrase-book might expect to be said. With diligence, it is
possible that he might thus find his way. The book in
question gave but two languages, French and English. If
the pilgrim found himself where the people spoke neither,
the people would suffer as much as he, and he could thank
God that he did not live among them.

CHAPTER XIX
THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO

AMONG the pilgrims to Compostella, that vast unnumbered
multitude whose names can never be recalled, were occasion-
ally men and women of such position or rank in life that
record was made of them : popes, kings, bishops, scholars,
and the like. In this study we have come across not a few
of them ; and they stand out, largely by reason of their
importance in the world, as witnesses to the dignity and
power of the revered and saintly Apostle of Galicia. It is
not wonderful that common people, led on by stories of
miracles and of benefits so freely wrought or given by
St. James, should have crowded to his shrine. They pos-
sessed a credulity rarely touched by scepticism. But it is
remarkable that a like devotion, a like unquestioning accept-
ance of the claims made for the Saint, a like expectation of
favours, should have stirred the hearts and minds of the
leaders and thinkers of the age. One may esteem but little
the self-denial of the peasant, his readiness to accept what-
ever is told him, his anxiety to secure a joy in another life
which is denied him in this ; but one can scarcely set aside
as insignificant the worship and homage of princes and
prelates, of shrewd, competent, far-seeing men and women,
some of learning that would be counted worthy in any age,
commanders of armies, rulers of provinces, merchants,
knights, and lawyers the superiors of the masses, whom
the masses respected and followed.

Again we feel the irony that ever and anon, in every age,
enters into men's souls and makes itself felt. This Galilean
fisherman, with whom no gentleman of his generation, priest
or Pharisee or Sadducee of rank, would have had any dealings,
has become the honoured and adored lord of pontiffs and
emperors. They who would not have bought his fish, now
bend the knee at his tomb, and implore his intercession with
the Most High God. The times have changed. Earth's
great men gather at the feet of a man once obscure, poor,
despised.

213

244 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

And more than this. There were pilgrims who could
scarcely get to Compostella, even by begging their way,
tramping in rags and hunger through rough ways ; and
there were pilgrims who came on horseback or in litter,
escorted by men-at-arms, gay and richly dressed companions,
and long retinues of serving-men. There were pilgrims
who asked for naught but a bundle of straw on which to
sleep and the refuse of the table on which to feed ; and there
were pilgrims who required all the resources of inn or hos-
telry, of village or castle, to satisfy their demands. One
kind had money ; the other had none. It is a foregone
conclusion, and has been such in all generations and in all
lands, that the treatment accorded with the condition. The
poor man slipped into Compostella unnoticed, save perhaps
by a hungry dog ; the rich man was met at the gate by the
dignitaries of the city, and the bells rang out his welcome.

It is possible that this reception was inconsistent with the
theory that as God is no respecter of persons, neither should
man be. In the Middle Ages, as probably in most ages, it
was maintained that all men were born free and equal ; and
such conditions as slavery or serfdom, or class distinctions,
were held to be contrary to nature and offensive to the will
of God. These conditions were brought about by the infir-
mities of men. Gregory the Great declared, that ' we act
well and wholesomely in restoring the blessing of original
liberty to men whom nature hath made free, and whom
human laws have bowed under the yoke of servitude ' ;
and Queen Elizabeth was no less definite : ' From the
beginning God created all men free by nature.' Such an
assumption was not left to the eighteenth century to enun-
ciate. Preambles to acts of manumission and decrees of
councils and acts of parliament affirm the same principle.
The people of old time loved to talk of equality : ' We are
all God's children, and should live as brethren.' But the
terms ' free and equal ' have to be defined, or the commonly
accepted ideal runs into confusion and contradiction. The
Church indulged freely in such vague and attractive plati-
tudes, and at the same time encouraged severe class divisions.
She freed her slaves ; but she remembered heavenly hier-
archies and nature's obstinate diversities. And peoples
and races have gone on making the same assertions : one
of the oldest fictions, and denied by one of the oldest facts.
It was so in pilgrimages. The lines were drawn at Com-
postella, as at every other shrine in Christendom. Every

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 245

man who knelt at the sepulchre of St. James was the equal
of his fellows : and every man there was served and regarded
according to his condition in life.

When, then, we read of favours granted to distinguished
personages, we need not be surprised. Inconsistency is one
of life's saving graces. At Compostella one penitent was
as good as another, but there were differences. Some of the
pilgrims whose names were thought remarkable enough to
have been preserved had advantages which could not have
been given to pilgrims less remarkable. It was so of
necessity. Some could give only a candle of tallow ; others
could give crowns of gold. Even Demos must acknowledge
Aristos. And after all, these privileged pilgrims are more
interesting than the common run of pilgrims. Not only
have they position or wealth, and therefore influence that
can benefit others, but it is more difficult for them to dis-
charge the duties of penitents. Christ said so Himself :
' How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the
kingdom of God ! ' St. Francis thought that poverty was
the highway to heaven. The good fathers at Compostella
therefore had great pity for their princely and noble visitors.
They knew the struggle made by them to acknowledge their
need of St. James's help. So they encouraged them by
giving them the best they had.

We should keep in mind, however, that it was not only
for the forgiveness of sin that men went to Compostella.
As often as not the motive of pilgrimage arose from a con-
tract. The individual wanted some favour : it may have
been health, or deliverance from some peril, or victory in
battle ; and he pledged himself, if St. James would secure
it for him, to return thanks in person and make an offering
at the shrine in Compostella. It was the same sort of
bargain that Jacob made at Bethel : ' If God will be with
me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me
bread to eat, and raiment to put on, so that I come again
to my father's house in peace ' : then, if the Almighty will
do these things for him, but not otherwise, Jahveh shall be
his God, ' and of all that thou shalt give me I will surely
give the tenth unto thee.' Such vows are not even now
unknown. So our forefathers made them. ' If St. James
will help me, I shall help St. James ! ' The journey, there-
fore, was not always one of penitence, but sometimes one of
gratitude and thanksgiving.

So, even as the kings of the East brought gifts to the

246 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Infant Bedeemer, simply in recognition of His kingship, so
the princes of Christendom knelt before the shrine of the
Apostle, and made to him oblations, sometimes costly in
the extreme, thereby acknowledging his graciousness to
man and his power with God.

And Compostella became a city worthy of comparison
with other cities and of the respect of earth's mighty people.
Built on the lower eastern slope of Pedroso, about seven
hundred and fifty feet above the sea-level, and some sixteen
to seventeen hundred feet below the highest point of the
mountain, Compostella commands a fine and extensive
landscape, and is itself, with its dark granite walls and towers,
set against that noble background, an impressive sight from
afar. Attention has been already directed to some of the
buildings which by the eleventh and twelfth centuries had
been accumulated in Compostella. Within the next four
hundred years others had been added to them. In this
prosperous period, which I have called the Golden Days of
Santiago, their number and their dignity corresponded
fittingly with the Apostle's rank in the extensive galaxy of
ecclesiastical saints. They were splendid enough to save
pilgrims and travellers, even though they had seen the best
in other countries and the noblest in Spain, from making
belittling comparisons. But I have neither the space nor
the skill to enter into architectural description ; and the
field has been covered and exhausted by masters of the
subject.

Did I dare I should linger before that marvellous portico
known as the P6rtico de la Gloria, wrought by Maestro
Mateo, within the .twenty years after 1168, and tell its story
and design. This, too, has been done over and over again ;
and yet no delineator, no matter what his love of art or his
ability with the pen, has been able to do it justice, or to
impart an adequate idea of its transcendent beauty and
spiritual conception. Nor, as Aubrey F. G. Bell well says,
can any copy or photograph give an idea of the living ex-
pression and soft, mellow colouring of its figures, or of the
general harmony of its effect in its wealth of detail. It was,
and still remains, a magnificent entrance to the sanctuary
within, a very gate of heaven, a soul-stirring symbol of that
Lord who declared Himself to be the ' Door,' a living re-
minder of those men, the One divine and the others human,
by whose help the pilgrim may at the last go into his Father's
House. They who drew near, bending heart and knee in

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 247

homage, won at the outset an assurance of the blessing that
would come to them when they prostrated themselves before
the shrine of the Apostle. Here was not only poetry in
sculptured guise, but the fullness of art and devotion, worthy
of the Saint, and becoming alike to those whose hands had
wrought and to those whose eyes now beheld acceptable,
too, to that Omnipotent Lord of all, to whose glory the
building had been raised and the people had come from afar.

Even now, though the splendour of those ages of faith has
long since dimmed, Compostella, with about 15,500 inhabi-
tants, contains no fewer than 46 ecclesiastical edifices, with
288 altars, 114 bells, and 36 pious fraternities : so says the
Baedeker for 1913.

But let imagination go back to those distant centuries,
and picture the glory of Compostella when the cult of
St. James was in its height and vigour, and the great men
and women of the world gathered at its altars. About the
year 1109 there came to Santiago, so legend strenuously
declares, and not without some foundation, Guido, arch-
bishop of Vienne and brother of Raymund of Burgundy.
Raymund will be remembered as Queen Urraca's husband,
the Count and Countess of Galicia, and the patrons of the
great archbishop, Gelmirez of Santiago. In 1119 Archbishop
Guido was elected Pope, under the title of Calixtus n.,
which office he held till 1124. Historians dispute the asser-
tion that he ever visited the shrine of St. James, but for
some reason or other he certainly became much attached to
the place : for in the year 1122 he granted to the cathedral
the privilege of the Holy Year. In whatever year St. James's
Day, July 25, fell on a Sunday, the Holy Door, or Porto
Coeli, was opened, and they who passed through it into
the church received extraordinary spiritual benefits. This
year, the first occurrence of which coincided with the alleged
pilgrimage of Calixtus n., thereby obtained an importance
over all other years. It was a year of advantage, of indul-
gence, of pardon, and in it the numbers of penitents enor-
mously increased. Thus Calixtus conferred a tremendous
boon on Compostella. Moreover, his name was given to a
famous manuscript or codex, containing a record of the life
and miracles of the Saint, and some sketches of the history
of Compostella. Of this document we have already said
much. Possibly Calixtus wrote some parts of it, but the
document was not finished till about 1140, some sixteen
years after his death. Whether by him or by some one

248 THE CULT OP SANTIAGO

else, much of it was written by an eye-witness. Take, then,
this passage, describing the life and splendour which pre-
vailed at Compostella in the early years of the twelfth cen-
tury, which passage Mrs. Gallichan in her Story of Santiago
attributes to Calixtus and translates from the Codex Calisti.
It is at least a contemporary account.

' The many thousands of miracles that are worked daily
through the intercession of the Apostle in the city of his
glorious tomb, increase the legions of pilgrims, who carry
back with them to the utmost confines of the world the name
of Compostella.

' The doors of the sacred cathedral are never closed ;
lamps and tapers fill it at midnight with the splendour of
noon. Thither all wend their way, rich and poor, prince and
peasant, governor and abbot. Some travel at their own
expense, others depend on charity. Some come in chains, for
the mortification of their flesh ; others, like the Greeks, with
the sign of the cross in their hands. Some carry with them
iron and lead for the building of the basilica of the Apostle.
Many whom the Apostle has delivered from prison bring
with them their manacles and the bolts of their prison doors,
and do penance for their sins. The sick come and are cured,
the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the dumb speak,
the possessed are set free, the sad find consolation, and, what
is more important, the prayers of the faithful reach to Heaven,
the heavy weight of sin is removed, the chains of sin are
broken. . . .

' Thither come all the nations of the earth. The pilgrims
travel across Europe in mighty companies, and in companies
they place themselves beside the sepulchre, the Italians on
this side, the Germans on that, as the case may be, each
holding a wax taper in his hand. There they remain to
worship the whole night long, and the light from the in-
numerable tapers makes the night like day. Some weep for
their sins, some read psalms, some sing, and some give alms
to the priest. There does not exist a language or a dialect
that is not heard in the cathedral. If any one enters sad,
he goes out happy ; there is celebrated one continuous
festival ; people come and go, but the service is not inter-
rupted by day or by night.'

Even should we make allowance for some exaggeration in
this eloquent and glowing tribute to the popularity and
glory of Santiago, enough remains to impress us with the
numbers of the pilgrims, their devotion, and the benefits

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 249

they secured. We must not, however, picture to ourselves
multitudes as large as,, under strong inducement, would
gather in these latter days. The population of Europe has
been multiplied many times, and the means of communi-
cation, the railways, steamboats, roads, are now such as the
people seven or eight hundred years since could not have
imagined. Numbers must be taken comparatively. There
is no doubt that the numbers which went to Compostella
then made as deep an impression and as great a surprise in
the minds of contemporaries, as are made on our minds by
the crowds which now gather at some congress or exposition/
held, say, in London, Paris, New York, or Chicago. Thus
some industrious investigator has discovered that in the ten
best years in the fifty years before 1456 there arrived in
Galicia a total of 130 ships and 7907 pilgrims. This cal-
culation gives annually of ships thirteen, and of pilgrims
nearly eight hundred ; and these figures gave the scrutator
considerable satisfaction. Yet we may assume that he is
dealing only with pilgrims who came by water. The number
which came over the mountains and across country would
be even greater. Nor may we forget that Compostella, com-
pared with the cities and towns of to-day, was then only a
mere village, with plenty of churches, to be sure, but few inns.

Travel set in from England freely as early as the reign of
Henry i. About the time that Calixtus is said to have made
his pilgrimage to Compostella, perhaps in the same year, an
Englishman named Ansgot, from Burwell in Lincolnshire,
apparently of some wealth and position, also went there.
We know little about him, but on his way home he stopped
at the house of La Sauve Majeure, near Bordeaux. This
city was within English influence the last evidence of such
influence now remaining is a street called ' St. James/ which
street has existed from 1152 ; but, on the other hand, it is
probable that men of the rank of Ansgot were even more
under the influence of their continental friends and associates.
At all events, some time about 1110 this Ansgot founded at
Burwell a priory dependent on the monastic establishment
where he had been guest at Bordeaux. He concerns us,
however, only as being one of the earliest pilgrims to Com-
postella from England.

And so with another Englishman, whose name chances to
be given among those who went thither. Some time in the
third quarter of the twelfth century, Maurice de Barsham,
an inhabitant, evidently of means, of the village of East

250 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Barsham, not far from Walsingham, sought the help of
St. James, possibly having more hope in the Apostle far
away than in our Lady of the town close at hand if she
had then taken up her glorious vocation there. This is all
that we know of Maurice, but he affords further evidence
that. Compostella had begun to attract from beyond the sea
men of his station in life.

But in the summer of 1125 came a pilgrim of the
highest rank, the Empress Matilda, daughter of Henry I. of
England, and widow of the Emperor Henry v. Born in 1 102,
and married to the emperor, twenty-one years her senior,
before the age of twelve, she was now in her twenty-third
year, and one of the most important personages in Europe.
She has a place among the world's great women. Her real
nobleness of character had won the esteem of her husband
and the admiration of his subjects. It is said that on his
deathbed the emperor placed in her hands the sceptre,
perhaps as a sign that he wished her to be his successor.
Neither his empire nor his kingdom, however, was his to
give ; and her father had other plans. Four years later he
married her to Geoffrey Plant agenet, Count of Anjou, and
ten years her junior. She thereby did indeed become the
mother of Henry n., but on the death of Henry i. broke out
a fierce struggle between her and the people of Normandy
and England which did not end till the accession to the
throne, in 1154, of her son. It is said that her arrogance
and determination did much to aggravate the dispute. The
epitaph on her tomb in the abbey church of Bee tells the
story of her life, in a quaint conceit : ' Here lies Henry's
daughter, wife, and mother ; great by birth greater by
marriage but greatest by motherhood.' Into this story,
exciting though it is, we may not enter ; only, may it be
added that in the ten years she lived after the coronation
of her son she played well the part of queen-mother. She
died in 1167. Age had mellowed her temper, and she had
turned more and more from secular ambitions to charity
and religious works.

Her pilgrimage to Compostella, in her early womanhood,
indicated a lifelong tendency. In the days of grief and
bewilderment she sought the aid and comfort of the Apostle
of the West. It is not likely that the empress remembered
that her grandfather, William the Conqueror, rode to the
battle of Hastings that October morning in 1066 on a horse
given him by Alfonso vi., the youthful king of Leon and

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 251

Castile, the benefactor and patron of Santiago, and destined
to be the father of Queen Urraca, and one of the most
romantic characters of Spain. We need not question that
the Apostle had been implored to give his aid to the success
of William. St. James was ever ready to help in a righteous
cause, and not only the Pope but also many kings had de-
nounced the wrong which Harold, son of Earl Godwine, had
committed by seizing a crown given by Edward the Con-
fessor to the Duke of Normandy. St. James was not always
so gracious, for, in 1588, though Philip n. knelt before his
shrine at Compostella and commended to his care the Armada
just about to set out to subjugate that same England, he
afforded no help whatever. On the contrary, God sent the
storm, and St. James stood by Elizabeth and Francis Drake.
William of Normandy did not indeed win the battle of
Hastings because of the Spanish horse. This horse and
another horse were slain under him before the news came that
Harold was killed ; but the legend-maker would have no
difficulty in showing that the royal pilgrim's gift, possibly
fresh from St. James himself, helped to change the destiny
of England. Of this the young empress probably knew
nothing. Urraca was within a year of her death, and her
son Alfonso vn., by Raymund of Burgundy, already ruled
Leon another of the generous supporters of Compostella.
The great archbishop, Don Diego Gelmirez, held authority
in Santiago, but the buildings which made Compostella
famous were far from finished, and some were not even
begun.

One can easily picture that day when the Empress Matilda
entered the town of St. James : princes, earls, counts, knights
in noble retinue, with soldiers and retainers a little army,
and priests and servitors, ladies-in-waiting and pages, and
officials such as became the court of the imperial lady. And
at the gate, eager and subservient, the archbishop with his
attendant prelates and dignitaries, and hosts of townsmen
of rank, and visitors of importance from beyond the seas
or the mountains a mass of stateliness and splendour, of
glittering armour and gorgeous costumes and rich rippling
banners and gaily caparisoned horses all the accessories
possible to make significant and enthusiastic the welcome !
The reception should indeed fit the occasion. It was a day
not soon to be forgotten. The plaudits filled the air. The
wonderful bells that were to make Compostella still more
celebrated by their exquisite melodies and tones were not

252 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

yet there, but whatever bells there were made all the sound
they could. And the archbishop bowed the knee to the
empress and kissed the hem of her robe, and the empress
bowed her head to receive the blessing of the archbishop.
And the gentlefolk and the common people in that great
crowd gazed earnestly, hearts aglow with pride and minds
filled with wonder, at the daughter of England and Nor-
mandy, young, fresh, and beautiful in person, unequalled in
rank, excellent in apparel, and gracious in deportment,
beloved by kings, and honoured by an empire. In the cen-
turies to come, Santiago would behold even more magni-
ficent spectacles than this, and St. James would receive
glory greater than even a Matilda could give. But sufficient
unto the day is the splendour thereof ; and the memory
of this day satisfied the ardent soul of Compostella for
generations to come.

I do not know the style or manner in which the empress
was entertained, or in which she performed the duties of her
pilgrimage. She was a religious woman, therefore every-
thing was done in seemliness and sufficiency. That she
made presents commensurate with her ability and position
cannot be doubted ; but no record remains of any of her
gifts. On the other hand, so deep was her devotion to
St. James, and so pleased were the authorities at Compo-
stella with her, perhaps both as a princess and as a penitent,
that when she left she was given one of the Apostle's hands.
She took it with her to England, but no one knows what
became of it. Whatever the loss may have been to Compo-
stella, it was made up, some years later, by a gift of one of
the arms of St. Christopher ; and if the reader cares to
refresh his mind with St. Christopher, let him read more
attentively than he has yet done the story given in the
Golden Legend. That there was supposed to be a kindly
feeling between St. James and St. Christopherj is suggested
by the fact that in the Latin Church both saints are com-
memorated on the same day, July 25.

Few things could better indicate the popularity of St.
James than the distribution and multiplication of parts of
his body. Such parts are found all over Christendom. This
happened to other relics too, especially to the wood of the
Cross, which, at the time of the Reformation, was rather
sarcastically, perhaps humorously, said to have been so
scattered over the world that bits could have been gathered
together sufficient to make a big ship. The best argument

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 253

in support of this alleged duplication was a reference
to the miracle of the loaves and fishes. If God willed it
so, no difficulty stood in the way. And though it was hard
to prove that such was God's will, yet none could doubt
His consideration and kindness. He would surely use what-
ever was useful. Now, of St. James it is claimed that, in
addition to the body at Compostella, a body in St. Sernin at
Toulouse and another in the church at Zibili, near Milan,
are equally authentic. There are two of his heads in Venice :
one in St. George's church, and the other in the monastery
of St. Philip and St. James. A head will be found in
Valencia, but is apt to be overlooked in the more magnificent
relic of a Holy Chalice ; a second head at Amalfi also
eclipsed by the body of St. Andrew ; a third head at St. Vaast
in Artois ; and part of a head at Pistoja. In the Church of
the Apostles in Rome are preserved a piece of the Apostle's
skull and some of his blood. And there are bones, hands,
and arms in Sicily, on the island of Capri, at Pavia, in
Bavaria, at Liege and Cologne, and elsewhere. Some of
these reliquiae may have belonged to other saints of the
same name, but it is difficult to distinguish them. The
genuineness of each relic is testified to by miracles ; and, as
I have already suggested, faith accomplishes its wonders
irrespective of the object to which it is directed. Rather
than marvel at the miracles and the multiplication of parts
of the body, we should consider the widespread devotion
to St. James, and the confidence held in his power. He was
exalted in other places than Compostella which, again, is
some testimony to the sound judgment of the men of that city.
So the empress, young and widowed, having made her
oblations to St. James, and doubtless being strengthened
with the assurances of his favour, went her way from this
remote corner of Christendom back into the world's busy
and stormy life. This may not have been the only pilgrim-
age made by her to Compostella. I do not know. Nor do
I know that either her father or her grandfather ever went
there, or her mother, the * Good Queen Maude,' who died in
1118. But all men know that she took a part in making
history scarcely second to that which would have been hers
had Henry v. survived. In June, 1129, her father married
her to Geoffrey le Bel, soon to become Count of Anjou, and
nicknamed Plantagenet from his habit of wearing in his cap
a sprig of genet, the yellow-flowering broom. She was then
twenty-seven years old, and he sixteen. By him Matilda

254 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

had three sons: Henry, born in 1133; Geoffrey, born In
1134; and William Long-Sword, born in 1136. On her
father's death, in 1135, began her struggle to secure the
throne of England for her eldest son, Henry Plantagenet ;
but into this story we may not venture. Her husband,
Geoffrey the Handsome, died in 1151, three years before her
plans were accomplished and Henry was crowned. Then,
in 1154, had England relief from the misrule of Stephen ;
and though Henry n. turned out a faithless husband and a
capricious, irritable master, yet after all he proved a capable
and judicious ruler, and became a monarch among monarchs,
for his sagacity respected by his friends and for his power
feared by his enemies. His conflict with Thomas Becket
was inevitable. He gave England a martyr, much to his own
humiliation, and much more to the prosperity of Canterbury,
but he also led the way to her freedom from the theory for
which that martyr died. For his unhappy family life he was
himself chiefly responsible, and at it none need be surprised.
And here comes into sight another, of the remarkable
women of the age, worthy indeed of being mentioned with
Matilda the mother, and of becoming the wife, of Henry n.
Without question Eleanor of Aquitaine had faults, and serious
faults too, and to her charge may be set several questionable
acts and strange prejudices, but for all that she was a strong
and successful character, and a religious woman, as religion
went among her class in those days. Her father, William x.,
duke of Aquitaine, bore an excellent reputation. He early
and decisively came under the influence of St. Bernard :
indeed, it was given out that he was converted by him in
1133. He devoted himself to the cult of Santiago, and,
recognizing one of the most important means to that cult,
he founded outside the city of Bordeaux a place of entertain-
ment for pilgrims to Compostella, which he called the
Hospital of St. James. Here, whether they journeyed
across France from Paris or came up the Gironde from
the sea, strangers could find food and shelter, and have their
spiritual preparation for a devout visit to Compostella
properly advanced. In the Lent of 1137, perhaps following
the custom of earlier Lents, William went on pilgrimage to
Compostella. With him also travelled his friend and suzerain
Louis YE. of France, nicknamed the ' Fat,' and also the ' Wide-
awake ' and the ' Bruiser.' Again we can imagine the stir
made in Compostella by the presence of two such princes,
and their lords-in-waiting and men-at-arms, companies

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 255

commensurate with their dignity, splendid in appearance
and rich in resources.

But here, while the Passion was being sung, William,
duke of Aquitaine, was suddenly taken ill, and in a short
while he died. On his death-bed he confided to Louis vi. the
care of marrying his daughter and heiress Eleanor. This
gave Louis his opportunity. William was buried before
the altar, and thereby further glory was added to St. James ;
and Louis immediately secured Eleanor and Aquitaine for
his son. Eleanor was then in her fifteenth year, and the son
about sixteen. In the August of the same year, at the very
time that Prince Louis was taking possession of Eleanor's
dowry, the duchy of Aquitaine, his father died, and under
the title of Louis vn. he became Bang of Trance.

The dramatic story of the death of William of Aquitaine
has been disputed. In his religious fervour and his love for
his daughter, he is said not to have died, but to have abdi-
cated. Passing out of men's sight, he went as a pilgrim to
Borne and Jerusalem, and lived as a hermit on Mount
Lebanon, where he died twenty years after.

This tradition is extremely doubtful, but it matters little.
In the same eventful year, 1137, that Louis vi. died and
William of Aquitaine is said to have died, and Louis vn. and
Eleanor were married, France and Aquitaine are known to
have been united under one sovereign. Two daughters came
of the marriage : Mary and Adele, the latter born in 1149.
Louis was a weak, timid man, rather given to blustering, but
possessed of much religiosity. 'Most Christian and most
gentle of men/ says his fervid admirer, Walter Maps. He
failed as a crusader, and in most of his military enterprises,
though he loved to visit and linger about sacred places.
Few men knew better the chief shrines that lay between the
rocks of Galicia and the country beyond the Jordan. His
simplicity, particularly of mind, astonished his attendants.
Without guards, but with the feeling that no one had any-
thing against him, if he felt so inclined he lay down to sleep
anywhere, perhaps in the depths of the forest. But he had
a conscience which troubled him, after the fashion that in
much later years a conscience bothered Henry vm. over
Catherine of Aragon. After fifteen years of married life and
the failure of male heirs, Louis raised the question of the
lawfulness of his relations with Eleanor.

The king convinced a council held at Beaugency in March,
1152, that he and Eleanor had violated the rules of con-

256 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

sanguinity. Charges were also made that the queen,
' having grown more and more indifferent to Louis, had been
led into frailties, or at least into follies, that were by no
means pleasing to her husband.' But one need not be led
astray by Walter Maps, that most amusing of chroniclers.
He hated both Matilda and Eleanor, and missed no chance
of repeating whatever scandal he could hear or overhear
concerning them. The real argument lay in the fact that
the king was tired of her. And the marriage was annulled,
or, to put it another way, Eleanor was divorced.

This proved no detriment to Eleanor. She was still young
and beautiful, about thirty years of age, and among the
richest of princesses. The duchies of Aquitaine and Gascony,
which she inherited from her father, and which she had taken
as a dowry to Louis, on her divorce reverted to her. No
woman in Europe had more attractions : especially for
impecunious princes, of whom there were several. Two of
these, one of them Geoffrey Plantagenet, son of the Empress
Matilda and her husband Le Bel, tried in turn to capture her
and marry her by force. She escaped with difficulty ; and
then, after all, perhaps, not so much from a desire for pro-
tection, as from policy, she offered herself and all that she
had to Henry Plantagenet, at the time Duke of Normandy,
and only two years from becoming King of England. Within
two months of her divorce, much one can imagine to the
delight of the Empress Matilda, in Whitsuntide, 1152, she
and Henry were married. Thus in 'a little while England,
Normandy, Anjou, Aquitaine, and Gascony fell into Plan-
tagenet hands ; 'and from this time dates the beginning of
the strife beteen England and France, which as some one
has well said, ' runs like a red thread through mediaeval
history,' and which did not end till Mary Tudor spoke of
Calais as written indelibly on her heart four hundred long
and woeful years !

Naturally, Louis vu., though, as one of his contem-
poraries called him, ' a very Christian king, but somewhat
simple-minded,' did not approve of Henry marrying without
permission the divorced wife of his feudal lord. Nor did he
care to lose Eleanor's provinces, especially when they went
to his powerful rival. He offered some resistance, but
in two years' time he made peace, and went on a series of
pilgrimages, one of which was to Compostella. In this he
found not only relief from the carking and crippling cares of
state life, and from a contest in which shrewder and more

THE -GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 257

persistent men than he nearly always had the best of him,
but also and chiefly the joy of his heart. Unearthly Louis !
'A very pious man,' said another of his contemporaries,
' a friend to the clergy, a devout servant of God, one who
was deceived by many and himself deceived none.' Even
Pope Innocent n. treated him as one under tutelage, and is
declared to have said : ' The King of France is a child, and
must be educated, and prevented from acquiring bad habits.'
So Louis rested himself and sought for wisdom at the
shrines of saints, rather than like Henry in the gatherings
of political leaders or on battlefields of stern warriors. These
pilgrimages are said to have been delightful, and were made
without any pomp or extravagance ; that is to say, com-
paratively speaking, for he must have paid and given, and
have been attended, as a king.

In this same year of grace, 1154, one may suppose, partly
for political reasons and partly as an outcome of the pil-
grimage to Compostella, Louis comforted himself by marry-
ing Constance, daughter of Alfonso vn., king of Castile
and known as ' the Emperor.' It was an advantageous
match, but again Louis found his conscience disturbing him.
According to a curious story, promulgated by Luke, bishop
of Tuy, a suffragan of Santiago, in which story Constance is
called Elizabeth, Louis became doubtful of the legitimacy
of her birth. He had no doubt of her father, but much of
her mother. So, in 1157, three years after the marriage,
his conscience working painfully slow, he made another pil-
grimage to Santiago, this time to implore St. James to help
him out of his difficulty. St. James, ever ready to do a
generous deed for good men who resorted to him, eased his
mind before he got to Compostella. On the way, Louis was
met by his father-in-law, King Alfonso, and by Raymund,
count of Barcelona, and the king of Navarre, accompanied
by a train magnificent enough to amaze him and his escort.
Alfonso seems to have known of his son-in-law's perplexity,
but, undoubtedly influenced by St. James, he said nothing
about it at the time, but treated him courteously and even
lovingly. The whole cavalcade went together to Santiago
a glorious company, like unto the most wonderful that
Compostella had entertained, say, since the visit of the
Empress Matilda. St. James was gratified, and his patri-
mony increased. Subtly, like richest wine of Champagne,
peace stole into the French king's mind.

It does not appear that his queen, Constance, accom-

B

268 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

panied him. One rather hopes she did, both because the
occasion concerned her so nearly, and because the reception
necessarily accorded would gratify her and her noble bevy
of ladies. Life was dull then, even for princesses, and
pageants did not happen every day. Compostella must
have looked its best and shouted its utmost : bands and
banners and banquets, and processions and ceremonies
which delighted everybody and did honour to the blessed
Apostle, who by this time had forgotten fishing-nets and
had come to respect crowns and sceptres.

Then the monarchs and their corteges went to Toledo,
and the splendour of the court led Louis to exclaim : ' By
God, I swear there is no glory like this in all the world ! '
And before the princes, lords, ladies, prelates, and knights,
and innumerable other dignitaries of Castile, in solemn array,
so brilliant and impressive, King Alfonso declared that
Elizabeth, or rather Constance, was his daughter by his wife
Berenguela, the daughter of Raymund, count of Barcelona.
And Raymund, father of Berenguela and grandfather of
Constance, second to none in bravery of apparel and firmness
of speech, came forward and remarked of his granddaughter
that ' it were well to honour and reverence her, for otherwise
the Catalans are marching on Paris ! ' After this fiery and
unequivocal intimation, Louis had no further scruples. His
conscience quieted itself, even as a child falling asleep.
St. James had worked everything round all right. Like a
man delivered out of threatening peril, Louis thanked God,
and declared himself content. Nor would he take any gift,
save a great emerald from Alfonso. ' And so,' continues
the story, ' he went home joyfully, and gave the emerald to
St. Denis, and loved his wife very tenderly, and honoured
her in every possible way.'

No one can tell what authority Bishop Luke of Tuy had
for this story. But this is clear enough : in the February
of the year following, 1168, there was born to Louis and
Constance a daughter whom they named Margaret.

And now see how happily St. James further wrought in
this matter ! All the princes and princesses concerned
were his devotees, and he wished them well. It so happened
that three years earlier, in 1165, to Henry n. of England and
Eleanor his wife, formerly the wife of Louis, there was born
a son, and the son was named Henry after his father. Now
came the English king's chance. In that chance possibly
lay reconciliation for all time between himself and Louis,

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 269

and also no slight personal benefit for both. In this he may
have been advised by his mother and his wife designing
and clear-headed counsellors. He proposed to Louis that
the two children should be betrothed to each other. There
does not seem to have been any ill-feeling between Eleanor
and Constance, though if not, human nature must have
gone contrary to its usual procedure in such cases. Louis
gladly and unsuspectingly consented, and in August, 1158,
when Margaret was six months old and Prince Henry three
years, they were betrothed, and the baby and her dowry
were handed over by the ' good and gentle king ' to the
king's ' dear friend Henry.'

The two kings played against each other. Neither was
honest, and both were thinking of the possible union of the
kingdoms and provinces involved, and little of the happiness
of the two infants. Louis, however, was a poor match for
Henry. The latter became impatient, and Providence
worked more decidedly for him. On October 4, 1160, Queen
Constance, wife of Louis vn., died. Eive weeks later
Louis vn. married Adele of Champagne ; and on November 2,
even on the morrow of All Hallows, 1160, Henry, fearful of
complications, celebrated the marriage of his son Henry
and the motherless Margaret. The prince was five and a
half years old ; the princess not yet three. Thus Henry n.
acquired to himself whatever estates or money belonged to
little Margaret ; and by the death of William, the eldest son
of Henry n. and Eleanor, in 1156, Henry FitzHenry became
heir to the throne. By his marriage with Adele of Cham-
pagne, Louis vn. became the father of Philip Augustus, who,
on the death of his father in 1180, became, at the age of
fifteen, king of France. Thus Margaret, the wife of Henry
FitzHenry, soon lost the heirship which her astute father-
in-law hoped would have been hers, and no doubt Louis was
made right glad.

We may not drift into the story of the five sons whom
Eleanor bore to Henry, but it is interesting to keep in mind
that this Henry FitzHenry lived long enough to fight against
his father and also his brother Richard Cceur de Lion, and
to become one of the most fascinating and popular knights
in Europe. Many of his men, out of pure love for him,
served him without pay. But he did not live long enough
to become king of England. In the summer of 1181 he died
childless and much lamented. His younger brother Geoffrey,
born in 1158, married, in 1167, Constance, daughter and

260 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO '

heiress of Conan rv., duke of Brittany. Three years later
Conan died, and Geoffrey, by virtue of his marriage with
Constance, succeeded in the duchy. But Geoffrey also died
before his father, in August, 1186, at the age of twenty-
eight. He left a daughter named Eleanor, and his wife bore
him a posthumous son, the unfortunate Arthur. History
records the fate of the young prince : nothing in the annals
of England, except the death of the two young princes
in the Tower, more angrily excites one's sympathies. In
Shakespeare's King John Constance makes valiant fight for
her noble son ; and the old Queen Eleanor appears ; and
the woeful tragedy is worked out till Eleanor's last son dies,
and his son, Henry in., is proclaimed king.

I am not sure that Henry n. ever went to Compostella ;
but, in 1177, seven years after the death of Thomas Becket,
he asked Ferdinand n. of Leon rather impatiently for a safe-
conduct for the journey, or if he cannot have that for his
proper person, then one for ambassadors of his. He would
expiate for his sins ; perhaps for his feelings towards the
martyred Thomas of Canterbury, and it is to be hoped for
his faithlessness to Queen Eleanor. But he was a busy and
troubled man. Impatient and restless, burdened with cares
sufficient to crush one less stalwart and determined than he :
' he never sits down,' says one who knew him well, ' he is
always on his feet ' ; and another adds : ' He passed nights
without sleep and was untiring in his activities.' Peace
seldom came to him. His mother, whose love for him seemed
inexhaustible, and who had spent her life for him, in her
death took from him all gladness. His antipathy to his
wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and her encouragement to her
sons in their rebellion against him, led him to keep her under
restraint more or less severe for long periods. His friend
Louis vii. aided and abetted both his sons and Thomas
Becket in thejr antagonism. Much opportunity was not
allowed him for penitence. Though, on the whole, a strong
leader and a wise legislator, anxious for the well-being of his
country, he yet stood in need of whatever help St. James
of Compostella could give. At last, after a bitter conflict
with his son Richard and with Philip Augustus of France,
who nine years earlier had inherited from his father,
Louis VTL, the throne and also the hatred of Henry's policies,
and having suffered defeat, full of shame and disappoint-
ment, on July 6, 1189, he died, his death further saddened
by the desertion of his son John.

THE GOLDEN DAYS OF SANTIAGO 261

Queen Eleanor had some justification for her conduct
towards him ; and, were the legend true, few would blame
her for her treatment of Fair Rosamond. The probabilities,
however, are against her having singled out one of her
husband's several mistresses ; and we may read the three
ballads in that delightful Collection of Old Ballads, published
in 1723, and edited, so some think, by Ambrose Philips,
without pity for Henry's ' only Rose,' or censure for Henry's
' furious Queen.' Not even the copperplate illustration of
the tragedy more than lightly touches one's sympathy. It
almost threatens an anticlimax. Eleanor stands before her
victim, with a dagger in one hand, and in the other a wide,
dishlike, stemmed bowl full of poison ; or, as Addison puts
it in his play, filled with drowsy juices, distilled from cold
Egyptian drugs. Rosamond is sitting down, rather fat and
decidedly placid, quite as young-looking as the queen ;
and she is in the act of taking the cup out of the queen's
hand. She prefers the chalice to the dagger, which is for-
tunate. For if Addison's hypothesis be true, all will come
out pleasantly. The subtle draught

' In borrowed death has closed her eyes :
But soon the waking nymph shall rise.'

The story, however, is probably an invention of the four-
teenth century ; and Addison's fancy ran riot when he ended
his play with the reconciliation of the king and queen.
Nor does Samuel Daniel, in his Complaint of Rosamond,
know more than he. But hard as the legend may be on
the memory of a mighty woman, it may be useful, perhaps,
to others. At least, the editor of the ballads men-
tioned above states that many children never would
have learned to read had they not taken a delight in
poring over 'Fair Rosamond'; 'and,' he adds, 'several
fine historians are indebted to historical ballads for all
their learning.'

Queen Eleanor lived till 1204, to the age of eighty-two,
fifteen years longer than Henry n., through the reign of
Richard,, and for five years after the accession of John. She
arranged the marriage of Richard and Berengaria, daughter
of Sancho vi., king of Navarre, which took place in 1191.
Eight years later, in 1199, Richard died, and was buried at
his father's feet in the church at Fontevrault ; and there,
too, Eleanor was laid. Berengaria survived Richard

262 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

thirty-one years. Of Queen Eleanor's children only John
Lackland and Eleanor, wife of Alfonso vm. of Castile,
survived her.

Of the three daughters of Henry and Eleanor, and their
descendants, I shall say something in the next chapter.
They did much for the shrine that their grandmother, the
Empress Matilda, had honoured.

CHAPTER XX
MORE ROYAL FRIENDS

WE have wandered from Compostella, but not a long way.
These royal benefactors and worshippers of St. James
helped incalculably to bring on, and to continue, the Golden
Days of Santiago. The associations and intermarriages of
English, French, and Spanish princes and princesses, which
continued for several hundred years after the union of
Geoffrey Plantagenet and the Empress Matilda, had much
to do with the development of both the cult of Santiago and
the fame of Compostella. These affinities were not created
for the sake of St., James. Rather they were designed for,
and in the end brought about, the amalgamation of a number
of principalities into three strong and lasting kingdoms :
but incidentally, and yet inevitably, they made an important
factor in the life of Western Europe. They also brought
about in the governing class such close relationships that
once in a while marriages were annulled by the Church, and
not a few marriages proposed were positively forbidden.
Hence the abundance of princes of the name of Henry, Louis,
and Alfonso, and of princesses called Eleanor, Blanche,
Constance, or Joanna. Only an experienced genealogist
can set them in their proper places, or disentangle the threads
of succession and affinity. In some way or other most of
them stood for the Apostle of Galicia. He was popular
with them, and they looked to him for favour.

The English Plantagenets were not behind other royal
houses in this benevolence and adherence to St. James ; and
it is to a few scattered incidents of this relationship that we
shall give some attention, thereby suggesting one of the
clues that in the Middle Ages brought England and Spain
so close to each other. The recurrence of dates and the
reiteration of names, perhaps at the risk of tiresomeness,
are intended to clear the way through a wilderness un-
frequented except by the special student. They may help
to keep the reader from confusion, or at least to save him

263

264 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

from the irritating necessity of reference to authorities for-
gotten since schooldays. It is not easy to keep clear the
men of the Apostolic Age bearing the name of James ; and
even more difficult is it to distinguish characters having
the same name in the same age and neighbourhood.

When we think, however, of these royal and noble men
and women, and of their ambitions and shortcomings, their
worldliness, inconsistencies, pretensions, and grossness of
morals, for among them there was but a thin scattering of
either princes or princesses who could be compared with
Louis ix. of France or Berenguela of Leon, we wonder how
far St. James approved of their manner of life or agreed
with their desires. Of this we may be certain, that St.
James the fisherman of Galilee differed much from St. James
the patron of Spain ; not, indeed, let us say, in himself, but
in the apprehension men had of him. As times changed
and miracles increased, his powers became greater, and to
them new powers, greater even than they, were added. God
had made the man, but man made the saint. He may not
have had the attributes ascribed to him, say, in the thir-
teenth century, but the multitudes which resorted to his
shrine believed he had ; and it was faith that pictured and
described him, and faith that led to the assurance of the
exercise of his qualities. The present age will suggest
superstition, but the people of those ages could point out in
abundance proofs of his presence and help. They knew, or,
if you will, they so persuaded themselves, that he was in
fact the saint whom they imagined him to be. In other
words, he was the image and reflection of their own ideas
and opinions. He thought their thoughts and felt their
feelings. No one went to him without hope and confidence :
neither king nor beggar ; and if things did not turn out
exactly as the petitioner wished, it was not without reason.
St. James sometimes failed, or at least disappointed, never
because he could not perform the desired act, but because
he would not. In such case he himself also suffered loss.
A suppliant refused had the right to reduce his offering.
There was an understanding in the bargain between him
and the s^dnt. A man could not be expected to pay for that
which he did not get ; though, to be sure, no pilgrim, even
though poorly prepared, could go to Compostella and not
receive something.

After all, faith in the cult of St. James was not so difficult
in those days as it would be in these. There were un-

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 265

believers and sceptics then as there are now ; and they were
no less noisy and aggressive. But right-thinking people
took them at their worth. The Psalmist understood them.
He knew that the man who says there is no God is a fool :
and, indeed, the man who strives to confirm a negative, no
matter how courageous he may be in his philosophy, merits
that epithet. However, in the times of which we speak,
societies such as the Inquisition took care of him and his
kind. It is only a short step from denying the miracles
of an Apostle to denying fundamental principles. And as
every sensible man then knew, there were spirits good and
bad, everywhere, in the house, the woods, the fields, the
brooks, the trees, even in the church itself. The good should
be encouraged, the bad driven away. Wizards and witches
were drowned and otherwise maltreated, not because they
were old, ugly, and spiteful, but because they had allowed
the devil to get possession of them, and because they who
tortured their bodies would save their souls. Heretics were
burned on earth to keep them from burning in hell. Right-
minded people were not after misguided men and women,
but after the Evil One who was in them. Once St. James
himself would have burned a whole village of Samaritans.
The Dominicans loved St. James.

Now, should it so chance that a man found it a little
difficult to accept all that was said of St. James and I have
my doubts, not so much of Archbishop Gelmirez and the
Empress Matilda, as of some of the pilgrims from England,
who wondered if they would be rewarded for their sea-
sickness and sore feet he could not regard punishment by
the Inquisition as at all respectable. People have always
been anxious to be esteemed respectable : and to be burned
or drowned, or to have a relative or neighbour so treated,
means disgrace. Better be quiet, and keep one's opinions
to oneself. Thus the cult of St. James became popular.
If you accepted it, you got on in the world ; if you denied it,
you were put out of the world. And what was the ordinary
pilgrim who tramped and begged his way to Compostella,
compared with the lords and ladies, the princes and prelates,
who had the life of others in their hands, and knew book-
learning and much else, and went to worship the Saint, and
made gifts to the Saint, in a manner that showed how mighty
were their resources and how much mightier their faith ?
Naturally one would think more of the example of the
Empress Matilda than of the opinions of Roger Bacon.

266 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Indeed, so widespread and urgent waxed the popularity
of the pilgrimage to Compostella, largely because of the
sanction personally given it by kings and nobles, that in
England the time came so says Dr. George C. Williamson,
in his Curious Survivals (published London, 1923) when
the visit there was regarded as so important that the de-
claration that the visit had been made was put among the
deeds of the estate, and unless it was found among such
papers the owner of the estate was looked upon as a man
who had no proper sense of his religious duties. ' In fact,'
Dr. Williamson goes on to declare, ' at one time, there was
an attempt to make it necessary that the "Compostella,"
as it was called, should be produced, if the property was to
pass down in succession from father to son. This happened
not only in Spain, but even in England.'

It is because of the tremendous influence which the princely
and noble families of Western Europe, and particularly of
the Plantagenets of England, had in the development of
this popularity, that I draw attention to a few further
instances of royal alliances and pilgrimages. Brief as may
be my allusions, they may yet serve by the way to illustrate
the close connexions between England and Spain in the
Middle Ages.

Of the three daughters of Henry n. and Eleanor of Aqui-
taine, the eldest, born in 1156, was named Matilda, after her
grandmother. In 1168, at the age of twelve, the year after
her grandmother died, she became the second wife of Henry
the Lion, duke of Saxony, and a cousin of Frederick Bar-
barossa. Four years earlier he had divorced his first wife.
His was a tempestuous life ; but he was religious, and much
given to pilgrimages. He founded bishoprics, and built
churches and monasteries, the latter mostly Cistercian.
Four years after his marriage he went to Jerusalem, leaving
the care of his kingdom in the hands of Matilda. She proved
her worth : a noble wife, an administrator beloved by the
people, and the mother of five sons and a daughter. One of
these sons, born in 1182, in the year 1209 became the
Emperor Otto IV. In 1181, Henry the Lion went on pil-
grimage to Compostella. He had suffered severe defeats,
and needed help. What he gave to St. James, or what
St. James gave to him, unless it were Otto, born the next
year, is not evident ; but probably both king and Apostle
were satisfied. Queen Matilda, most likely, was again left
at home to take charge of affairs. She died in 1189, and

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 267

Henry six years later ; and they lie side by side in St. Blaise's
Church at Brunswick.

Little need be said of the third daughter, Joan, born in
1165, and married, first, at the age of four, to William n.,
king of Sicily, twelve years her senior, who died in 1 1 89. Left
childless, in the same year, after a visit with her brother
Richard to the Holy Land, she married Raymund vi.,
count of Toulouse, and in 1199 she died. To Raymund she
left a son, who on his father's death in 1218 became
Raymund vn. He lived to 1249, leaving an only daughter,
Joan, who married Alfonso, brother of Louis rx., and on
their death, in 1271, Toulouse lapsed to the crown of France.

Eleanor, or Leonora of Aquitaine, the second sister, born
in 1162, at the age of seven or eight was married to Alfonso
vm. of Leon, the great-grandson of Queen Urraca, the
daughter of the kind King Alfonso vi., who, it will be remem-
bered, sent Duke William a horse on which to go to battle
against Harold. With some affection, and at least, let us
hope, with some regret, the little victim of political urgency
was dismissed to her new home, ready as a princess, and in
spite of her childhood, to make a faithful wife and to do
whatever was expected of her. She was met at Bordeaux
by five Spanish bishops, and with them * the most exquisite
flower of the nobility of both Castiles,' and an array of
white and black monks, Cistercian and Benedictine, and
especially, says Professor King, the great dignitaries of the
religious Orders. ' With them came back, by the Port of
Aspe, by Somport and Canfranc, a noble escort of her own
people : the archbishop of Bordeaux, the bishops of Agen,
Poitiers, Angouleme, Saintes, Perigord, and Beziers, and a
host of lords and knights, English, Gascon, Breton, and
Norman.' Verily the Dona Leonor de Inglaterra, daughter
of Henry n. and Eleanor of Aquitaine, entered Spain as
became a lady of high degree and the granddaughter of the
Empress Matilda. The two companies, Professor King ;
continues, paraphrasing her Spanish authority, Fidel Fita,
' rode together as far as Tarazona, escorted by Alfonso of
Aragon, to be met there by her spouse, his namesake of
Castile, with all the prelates and nobles left in Spain, it
would seem ; and thence the visitors turned back again in
July weather, heavy horse and sleek mule, steel-armed
knight and frieze-cowled monk, velvet cloak and silken cope,
climbing the brilliant dusty steeps, filling the pass with the
heat and murmur of a moving multitude.'

268 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Alfonso vm. was six years older than his child-bride, and
succeeded his father, Sancho in. of Castile, when he was
about eighteen months old. His mother was Blanche,
daughter of Garcia Ramirez, and when she had given birth
to Alfonso she died ; ' but her husband lit a silver lamp
above her tomb that burned for centuries.' Soon after his
marriage, when he was barely fifteen years old, Alfonso took
up the work of reducing his kingdom to order, one of his
advisers being his father-in-law, Henry n. of England, the
greatest governing intellect of his time, and as duke of
Aquitaine with a strong direct influence in Spain. Alfonso
vm. reigned fifty-six years : a great king. Eleanor his wife
deserves all the praise that has been given her. Of their
children, Berengaria, in 1197, married Alfonso ix. of Leon,
the grandson of Alfonso vn., the son of Urraca, and to them
was born Ferdinand m., in whom the kingdoms of Leon
and Castile were united again and for all time.

Were it not that good fortune smiled on Alfonso of Castile
and Eleanor of England even more brightly than in the
marriage of their daughter Berengaria, I should be tempted
to speak of their relations to St. James of Compostella.
They owed much to him. In other words, the Santiago
influence, which meant the archbishop and his clergy, was
given whole-heartedly to them ; and they showed their grati-
tude, as kings and queens always did, by loyalty to the Apostle
and beneficences to his sanctuary and estate. But besides
Berengaria other children were born to Alfonso and Eleanor,
among them a daughter whom they named Blanche, and this
Blanche, born in 1187, stands out as one of the heroines of
Spain. In 1200, at the age of twelve, she was married, in
the presence of her mother, to the Dauphin of France, Louis,
son of Philip Augustus, then six months older than she
both old Queen Eleanor's grandchildren. She appears in
Shakespeare's King John, her qualities sketched by a master
hand. If, in his historical plays, the great dramatist accom-
modates time and circumstance to suit his purpose, he never
fails in his delineation of character. Absolute fidelity and
penetrating insight enable him to present his dramatis
personae in vital clearness. We see the girl, and but a girl,
in the scene of the quarrel between the two kings, discerning
and decided, strong in thought and action, as the course of
history revealed her to be. She might lose the goodwill of
her uncle John, her grandmother Eleanor, and her newly-
made father-in-law, but when her husband reminds her that

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 269

with him her fortune lay, she exclaimed without hesitation
or possibility of change,

' There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.'

And to that somewhat gentle soul she devoted herself and
her masterful gifts through the twenty-three years before he
became king and during the three years of his reign. His-
tory tells of her intercession with Philip Augustus on behalf
of Louis, his son and her husband, who had been tempted to
venture himself into England at the invitation of the barons
opposed to King John. Before Louis could do much, John
died, and the barons turned against him. He needed money
to get himself and his men out of the country. To Blanche's
request, Philip Augustus declared: 'By the lance of St.
James, I will do nothing ! ' But in the end he gave her all
the money she wanted, to use as she wished, but not in his
name. No woman knew better than she how to win her will.
No wonder that when Louis vm. died, in 1226, she became
regent of France and guardian of his children. She was then
thirty-eight years old, and was spoken of as a very beautiful
woman : indeed, at fifty men still called her fair and wise
and of great beauty. To her and her husband were
born twelve or thirteen children. Many of them died in
infancy, and were buried in Notre Dame, where an in-
scription stated of their parents that they kept their
children from being kings on earth that they might make
them kings in heaven.

But the eldest of the surviving children was the one, born
in 1214, afterwards known as Louis ix., both king and saint
of France. He was but twelve years old when his father
died, and in managing the affairs of state, till he was able to
take up his work, Queen Blanche had to carry the burden
alone. Perhaps she is best remembered as the .woman who
saved France : after all, not so far from Joan of Arc. But
she had the spirit of her mother and her grandparents
and her great -grandmother, the Empress Matilda. From
her father came the energy of Alfonso the Emperor
and the dauntlessness of his mother Urraca. In her
were combined the best qualities of Leonese and Castilian
chieftains, and of the princes of Aquitaine. Normandy,
and England. A remarkable woman, a leader in an age
and the mother of a son, neither of which was less
remarkable than she.

We may not turn aside to tell the story of the man who

270 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

as monarch, crusader, and saint won the admiration of the
world. So long as Queen Blanche lived, he remained under
her influence and stood in awe of her. She was the power
behind the throne. Undoubtedly he loved her, though in
her presence he always behaved like a frightened child ;
but others rather feared than loved. This can be well under-
stood when we realize that she showed herself more than a
match for turbulent barons and plotting priests. No matter
how fierce the opposition, she never lost courage, tact, or
decision. She seems, however, except within the immediate
circle of her family, and even there for the most part, to
have failed in creating affection. Margaret of Provence,
whom Louis had married in 1234, though she ostentatiously
mourned for her at her death, disliked her exceedingly.
Jean Joinville, who could do such things, said to Margaret,
' The woman you hate more than any in the world is
dead, and yet you parade your grief.' She died in 1252.
Miss Winifred F. Knox, in her helpful and charming
Court of a Saint, has well pronounced her record : ' She
left a gap in the Court circle which no one could ever
fill for Louis, and went down to her grave leaving an
unspotted fame and a record of great achievements to her
posterity.'

For forty-four years, till 1270, Louis reigned : an ideal
king of the Middle Ages, says Professor Shotwell in the
Encyclopaedia Britannica though by that I do not suppose
he meant, even for the Middle Ages, a perfect king, or one
always wise, or untouched by the weaknesses of his times.
' An accomplished knight, physically strong in spite of his
ascetic practices, fearless in battle, heroic in adversity, of
imperious temperament, unyielding when sure of the just-
ness of his cause, energetic and firm, he was indeed " every
inch a king." ' Joinville says that he was taller by a head
than any of his knights.

'His devotions,' Professor Shotwell adds, 'would have
worn out a less robust saint. He fasted much, loved sermons,
regularly heard two masses a day and all the offices, dressing
at midnight for matins in his chapel, and surrounded even
when he travelled by priests on horseback chanting the
hours. After his return from the first crusade, he wore only
grey woollens in winter, dark silks in summer. He built
hospitals, visited and tended the sick himself, gave charity
to over a hundred beggars daily. Yet he safeguarded the
royal dignity by bringing them in at the back door of the

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 271

palace, and by a courtly display greater than ever before
in France. His naturally cold temperament was some-
what relieved by a sense of humour, which however
did not prevent his making presents of haircloth shirts to
his friends.'

Nor in his fervent devotion to the saints of the country
over which he was king, did Louis forget his mother's own
saint, the Apostle of Galicia! Joinville says that he had as
great devotion to St. James as he had to St. Genevieve.
Tradition affirms that in his last illness he offered the prayer
appointed for St. James's Day : 'Be thou, Lord, the
Sanctifier and Keeper of Thy people, that they, being de-
fended by the succours of Thy Apostle James, may both
please Thee by their life and devoutly serve Thee with a
quiet mind.'

The Church of England in the sixteenth century substi-
tuted for this collect the following :

' Grant, merciful God, that as Thine holy Apostle
Saint James, leaving his father and all that he had, without
delay was obedient unto the calling of Thy Son Jesus Christ,
and followed Him ; so we, forsaking all worldly and carnal
affections, may be evermore ready to follow Thy holy
commandments. '

So far as I know, the chronicles do not tell of the visit of
St. Louis and his mother to Compostella together ; but we
may be satisfied that they went thither more than once.
He died in 1270, and on the day of his burial, according to
the Golden Legend, ' by the merits and prayers of the said
debonair and meedful king,' a woman recovered her sight
which she had lost. Not long after, came a little boy born
deaf and dumb, and he knelt with others at the sepulchre
of the Saint, and in a little while ' were his ears opened and
heard, and his tongue redressed and spake well.' Miracle
followed miracle. ' That same year two men and five women,
beseeching St. Louis of help, recovered the use of going, which
they had lost by divers sickness and languors.' A child fell
under the wheel of a mill. He was taken out of the water,
but whether dead or only stunned no one could tell. But
when his mother laid him on the grave of St. Louis, he began
to sigh and was raised to life. After such a series of miracles,
and further moved by weighty political considerations, in
1297, Boniface vm. canonized Louis. Dante did not like
the Pope, and called him ' Chief of the new Pharisees ' ; and
indeed Boniface did advance the claims of the papacy beyond

272 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

those of any of his predecessors : but that did not affect the
canonization. St. Louis went on working miracles as vigor-
ously as ever.

I cannot refrain from recalling one more. Ten men were
working in a quarry. A landslip covered them. In a few
minutes a priest passing by heard their sighs, and under-
standing what had happened, ' and remembering the new
canonization of the Blessed St. Louis,' he fell to sore weeping
and earnest prayer. This done, he saw people coming near.
Then occurred the miracle. ' He called them, and forth-
with they delved with such staves as they had, so much that
by the merits of the saint to whom they trusted much, they
had out of the quarry the foresaid ten men, the which were
found unhurt, and as whole as ever they were before, howbeit
that in certain they were dead.'

I bring forward this description of Louis's habits of piety
and good works, not so much for his own sake as to illustrate
the type of royal saint which that age produced. For con-
temporary with St. Louis lived two other monarchs of
similar devotion and asceticism : Ferdinand m. of Castile
and Henry m. of England.

Ferdinand, son of Alfonso ix. of Leon and Berengaria,
daughter of Alfonso vm. of Castile and Eleanor Plantagenet,
granddaughter of the Empress Matilda, became, under the
controlling influence of his mother, one of the greatest of
the Spanish kings. Born in 1199, he was knighted in the
Cistercian abbey-church of Las Huelgas, near Burgos, in the
November of 1219. After the bishop had blessed his arms,
Berengaria buckled on him the belt. The statue of St. James
was brought and placed on the high altar. It moved its
arms, and gave the accolade to Ferdinand. This may have
been done artificially : at least an angel-lectern was so made
that by the pulling of a string it would bow its head at the
sacred name, and images of saints moved their eyes by like
means.

The same week, in the cathedral of Burgos, Ferdinand was
married to Beatrice, daughter of the Emperor Philip. Two
years earlier, by right of his mother, he had been made king
of Castile ; and, in 1231, at his father's death, he became
king of Leon. By his first wife he left a son, Alfonso x., at
his death, 1252, crowned king of the united kingdoms of
Castile and Leon. By his second wife, Joan, daughter of
Simon and Marie, count and countess of Ponthieu, who
survived him twenty-seven years, and whom he loved from

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 273

the first sight of her, Ferdinand became the father of Eleanor,
the Eleanor of Eleanors in the romance of English history.
In the same church in which her father was made knight,
this Eleanor, in October 1254, was married to Edward, then
Prince of Wales, fifteen years old, and eighteen years later
to become Edward I., king of England. Within a few days
of this event, Edward was dubbed knight by his brother-
in-law.

Ferdinand did great things, but we must hasten on our
way. Our old acquaintance Luke, bishop of Tuy, tells us
that he was grave in youth, pious and prudent, humble,
catholic, and benign. Another chronicler, Bishop Roderick
of Toledo, who fought beside his bridle, says that his mother
fed him with all virtues. He dearly loved singing men, and
could both make goodly speech and play good games that
belong to good manners. An honest, witty king, one who
knew the ways of God, and to whom the mind of God was
accessible. After the manner of his saintly aunt, Blanche,
the mother of his still more saintly cousin, St. Louis, he
delighted in building and decorating churches. Architects
held him in their hand, no less firmly than did the clergy.
When, in 1236, he captured Cordoba, he sent back to Com-
postella, on the shoulders of Moorish prisoners, the bells
which two centuries and a half earlier Almanzor had saved
as trophies out of his raid, and set in the Zeca, the second
most glorious mosque in the world. But for none of these
things does Ferdinand seem to have been canonized. Indeed,
he is not reported to have wrought any miracles, and for
centuries he was neglected by the authorities, though one
of the best of Spanish kings and bravest of soldiers, till it
was remembered that above all things else he had been a
severe and energetic opponent of the Albigenses, and the chief
claim put forth for his beatification was that he had carried
faggots himself to burn heretics; and then, as late as
Clement x., in 1671, he was numbered among the saints.

So far for St. Louis and St. Ferdinand, both devotees of
' my Lord Saint James,' as Joinville called him ; and now
for Henry m. of England. But first, a word concerning his
sister Isabella.

In 1235 she became the third wife of the Emperor
Frederick n., grandson of Frederick Barbarossa. Isabella
was then twenty-one years old. After six years of married
life, in 1241 she died, leaving a son, Henry, whom his father
appointed by will to be king of Jerusalem or king of Aries,

s

274 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

neither of which kingdoms did he obtain. Frederick sur-
vived her nine years, dying in 1250. He was styled Stupor
mundi et immutator mirabilis ; and it will be remembered
that it was believed in Germany for a century after his death
that he was still alive, and many impostors attempted to
personify him. A legend, which afterwards was transferred
to his grandfather Frederick the Bed Beard, and is now
universally applied to him, states that he still sleeps in a
cavern in the Kyffhauserberg in Thuringia. There he sits
at a stone table with his six knights, waiting till the time
shall come for him to awake and restore to the Empire the
Golden Age of peace, in which Germany shall have the fore-
most place in all the world. His beard has already grown
through the table-slab, but it must wind itself three times
round the table before he comes back. So Longfellow
only he thought of the older emperor :

' Like Barbarossa, who sits in a cave,
Taciturn, sombre, sedate, and grave.'

Dante is not gentle to him, and puts him with more than a
thousand others such as he, in a region of fiery tombs that
are yet open, and are not to be closed up till after the last
judgment.

But Henry m. of England had no such vigour as his
brother-in-law the Emperor Frederick ; nor yet such as
his wife's brother-in-law, Louis ix. of France. He continued
his sorrowful and feeble reign over England for fifty-six
years. He was unpopular, though he had some good points.
Once in a while a spark of his father's vehemence broke out,
as, for instance, in 1245, when the papal nuncio, with whom
he had had a serious dispute, asked him for safe conduct out
of the realm, he exclaimed : ' May the devil give you a safe-
conduct to hell, and all through it ! ' His morals, however,
were irreproachable. He pulled down great part of the old
abbey-church at Westminster founded by Edward the
Confessor, and began the present building, wherein, as all
men know, he sleeps among kings and queens, his kinsfolk
or descendants. There masses were ordered to be said for
his soul as long as the world endureth which order suggests
the depths of sin to which in his humility the king thought
he had fallen, and also the infidelity of the authorities in the
sixteenth century who stopped the masses. But Henry
did so much good in his lifetime that he cannot be supposed
to have suffered. He established monasteries and hermi-

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 275

tages, took synagogues from Jews and converted them into
churches, hanged Jews and confiscated their goods freely
on the flimsiest pretext, encouraged the friars, at one time
fed six thousand poor people, severely punished apprentices
who indulged in a wrestling-bout on St. James's Day, curbed
the citizens of London in their assumptions of rights which
belonged to the crown, and availed himself of every oppor-
tunity for visiting shrines. Religious ceremonies delighted
him. He regarded a fast as an indulgence, and a feast as a
privation. He heard three masses every day, and prayed
fervently to every saint brought to his notice.

Louis ix. told Joinville : ' You would find it very hard to
do what the King of England does, who washes the feet of
lepers and kisses them.' Fra Salimbene, the Franciscan
autobiographer, tells a story of Henry m., reputed, says he,
' a simple man.' One day a jester cried aloud in his presence,
' Hear ye, hear ye, my masters ! Our king is like unto the
Lord Jesus Christ.' ' How so ? ' asked the king, hugely
flattered. ' Because our Lord was as wise at the moment
of His conception as when He was thirty years old : so like-
wise our King is as wise now as when he was a little child.'
Henry, as Dr. Coulton reminds us, like other weak men had
his fits of sudden fury, and he ordered the jester to be
strung up out of hand. His servants, however, only went
through an empty form of execution, and bade the unlucky
fool keep carefully out of the way until the king should have
forgotten.

Had miracles been wrought at Henry's tomb as they were
at Louis's tomb, and had he been less like his father in
thwarting the policies of the Church, in all probability he
would have been canonized. Of late years some fervid and
foolish souls have ventured to suggest that the honour
should be conferred on him : but in vain. His saintliness
will have to go uncertified. Perhaps the Italian chronicler
Giovanni Villani best sums up his character : ' A plain man
and of good faith, but of little courage.' Matthew Paris
said that he had a heart of wax ; and it was because of his
instability of purpose that Dante placed him in that pleasant
valley on the outskirts of Purgatory, where dwell the folk
who were too weak and powerless to do either good or evil,
too good to be bad, and yet unmindful of the great reward :

' Behold the king of simple life and plain,
Harry of England, sitting there alone.'

276 THE CULT OP SANTIAGO

But Henry m. was the father of one of the noblest and
greatest of all the kings of England, Edward I. Born in
1239, and named after Edward the Confessor, for whom
his father had special veneration, in 1254 he was married to
Eleanor, half-sister of Alfonso x. of Castile and great-grand-
daughter of Henry n. of England. Of the devotion of
Edward and Eleanor to each other nothing need be said.
Historians testify unanimously to her unsullied reputation,
her virtue, her conjugal fidelity, and her .heroic bravery
as her epitaph runs :

' She was a woman prudent, wise in councils, pious, blessed in

a numerous offspring :

She increased the friends, alliances, and honours of her husband.
From her example, Disce Mori Learn to die.'

One is therefore surprised to discover a ballad, supposedly
written in the days of Mary Tudor, in which England is
warned against her pride and wickedness. Punishment
speedily followed her misdeeds which misdeeds are too
gross to recount. Accused of such by her husband, she
denied them, and called upon God were she guilty to send
His wrath with speed but read this verse of the ballad :

' If that upon so vile a thing

Her heart did ever think,
She wish'd the ground might open wide,

And she therein might sink !
With that, at Charing Cross she sunk,

Into the ground alive ;
And after rose with life again,

In London, at Queen-Hithe.'

Even after this marvellous transit underground, ' she lan-
guished sore full twenty days in pain.' Then she confessed,
and on that the ballad ends. The legend which tells of her
sucking the poison from a wound inflicted on her husband
by an assassin at Acre, in 1270, though intended to display
her grace and devotion, is equally unworthy of credit. In
saying that, the iconoclast demolishes another story which
used to charm the schoolboy's heart.

But the honour paid her at her death, in 1270, and the
love the king had for her during her life are testified to by
the crosses which marked her funeral procession from
Lincolnshire to Westminster : thirteen in number, of which

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 277

three still remain, and the last one is remembered in the
place-name Charing Cross, not indeed so called after her or
any one else, but held to commemorate La Chere Reine,
the Blessed Virgin a usual halting-place between London
and the Abbey. Edward may have said of his wife at her
death, as Louis said at the death of his mother, ' I have lost
the person whom I loved best of all the world ! '

Again we may assume close relationship and warm de-
votion on the part of this Edward and this Eleanor to St.
James of Compostella ; but that is true of most of the
members of this widely allianced family. We shall hasten
to the fourth generation from Edward I., and end this
chapter with some account of John of Gaunt :

' Old John of Gaunt, time-honour 'd Lancaster.'

It will be remembered that in 1376, the year before the
death of Edward m., Edward the Black Prince, famous
among the heroes, died and was buried in the cathedral at
Canterbury. The next year, his son, then eleven years of
age, became king under the title of Richard n., and during
his minority his uncle, John of Gaunt, controlled affairs.
Richard turned out a worthless king, tyrannical, unscrupu-
lous, half insane, and his end, in 1400, was tragical, as all
readers of Shakespeare know.

John of Gaunt, the fourth son of Edward m. and Philippa,
daughter of William the Good, Count of Holland and Hainault,
was born in 1340 at Ghent. We may not take up his story
other than as it is associated with Galicia and Compostella ;
but for many years he was probably the richest and cer-
tainly the most powerful man in England. Various esti-
mates are set upon his character. He was not popular with
the people. In the riots of 1377 a mob tried to slay him,
and only by haste on his part was he saved. Stow tells us
that he leaped so hastily from his oysters that he hurt both
his legs against the form. In 1381 another mob pillaged and
burned his palace, the Savoy, ' unto the which there was
none in the realm to be compared in beauty and stateliness.'
At that time so widespread was the dislike for John of Gaunt,
that this same year the rebels obliged his duchess to flee
from Leicester, his stronghold, to Pontefract, another of his
castles, and being refused admission there to go at night by
torchlight to Knaresborough. Possibly the hatred thus
manifested had good cause for its existence at least, so
thought the followers of Wat Tyler and John Ball, who not

278 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

only advocated socialist doctrines, but also blamed John
of Gaunt for the misgovermnent of the realm. And yet, a
man of chivalrous soul, of unswerving loyalty, neither
eminent as a soldier nor great as a statesman, but deserving
of respect in both vocations, religious perhaps, unscrupulous
probably, and ambitious undoubtedly, John of Gaunt
appears among the leaders of his age more conspicuous for
his virtues than for his faults a prince, indeed, if strictly
judged, deserving, as most men, now of favour and now of
censure, but with fascination about him enough to win the
esteem of the modern reader. That he befriended Wycliffe
by no means implies that he approved of the theological or
social opinions of the reformer, any more than that he loved
literature because he was a patron of Chaucer.

Perhaps Shakespeare has done more than any other writer
to beget and foster in us kindly feelings towards this out-
standing and mighty character of England's past. The
year before Richard n. died, John of Gaunt passed away,
angered to the depths of his soul by the indiscretion and
misrule of his fierce and mad nephew. On his death-bed
he uttered words which the great dramatist has set in
form of unexcelled force and grace words which again
and again have lightened and heartened the little world
set in the silver sea, and made he? people proud of their
pride :

' This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world.'

Had John of Lancaster been really a ' prophet new in-
spired,' and able to foretell the immediate future, he would
have seen his own son Henry Bolingbroke on the throne,
and the seed sown which brought forth the Wars of the
Roses, and changed the dream-life of the Plantagenets into
the new, strong life of the Tudors.

When nineteen years old, in 1359, John married his cousin
Blanche, daughter of Henry, the first duke of Lancaster.
Through her, at the death of her father, he obtained the title.
Of them were born Henry TV. and also Philippa, who became,
as we shall see later, the wife of Juan I., king of Portugal,
and ancestress of all the subsequent sovereigns of that
country. The Duchess Blanche died in 1369, and Chaucer
wrote a lament for her in one of his earliest poems, ' The
Dethe of Blaunche the Duchesse,' some of the lines of which

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 279

are acknowledged to be among the most tender and charming
he ever wrote :

' I have of sorwe so grete woon,

That joye gete I never noon,
Now that I see my lady bright,
Which I have loved with al my might,

Is fro me deed and is a-goon.'

Two or three years earlier Pedro the Cruel, king of Castile,
was deposed by his subjects and his half-brother Henry n.,
count of Trastamara, chosen in his stead. Pedro fled with
his three daughters to Bayonne, and from there appealed to
England for aid. In 1367 John of Gaunt went with his
brother, Edward the Black Prince, on an expedition to Spain
on behalf of Pedro. At the battle of Najera, April 3, 1367,
an English victory restored Pedro to his throne, but rebellion
broke out afresh, and in 1369 Pedro was killed in battle by
his rival, Henry of Trastamara.

Pedro had promised to pay the costs of the English ex-
pedition, and had left his three daughters as hostages at
Bayonne. He had also settled the crown of Castile on these
daughters. Beatrice, the eldest, died in a convent, and
according to the will the succession passed to the second
daughter, Constanza, and, heirs failing, from her to Isabel
the youngest daughter. In the meantime Henry n. made
good his hold on the crown, and was generally acceptable in
the kingdom. It was now not possible for the debt incurred
to England to be paid, but Constanza and Isabel remained
at Bayonne, perhaps as much for safety against Henry of
Trastamara, as pledges to the English.

In the year 1372, John of Gaunt was holding court at
Bordeaux, and certain of his friends urged him to consider
Constanza as a wife, so that he might through her become
heir to Castile. Said they : ' It is great almesse to comfort
maydens in their distresse, and specially doughters to a
kyng ' ; and continued they : ' We can nat tell wher ye
shulde be so well maryed agayne, nor where that so moche
profyte shulde come to you therby.' These words we are
told and other words to the same import entered so into the
duke's heart, and so well pleased him, that he sent four
knights to Bayonne to fetch the ladies ; and forthwith the
knights brought them.

' And,' Froissart says, ' whan the duke knewe of their
comyng, he rode out of Burdeaux to mete with them, and
a lytell fro Burdeaux, in a vyllage called Rockf ort ; he maryed

280 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

the eldest, called Constance : at the whiche daye of maryage
ther was a great feest, and great nombre of lordes and ladyes.
And thanne the duke brought his wyf e to Burdeux, and than
there was agayne great feest and joy made, and the good
lady and her suster were greatly feested ther, by the ladyes
and damosels of Burdeux, and gyven to them great gyftes
and fayre presentes, for the love of the duke.'

Later the younger sister, Isabel, was married to Edmund,
earl of Cambridge, the fifth son of Edward m., and from them
descended the brothers Edward iv. and Richard m., including
the two young princes, sons of the former, whom the latter
caused to be murdered in the Tower, 1483. At Bosworth,
two years later, the line of Edmund and Isabel ended.

As soon as John of Gaunt had married Constanza, he
assumed in her right and by the grace of God the title of
King of Castile and Leon ; and for the next sixteen years
he struggled to obtain the kingdom. No advantage came
to him till after the death of Henry Trastamara in 1379 and
the accession of his son Juan I. We should wander too far
from our purpose were we to enter into details. It is suffi-
cient for us to refer to a few salient points. In the March
of 1382 Pope Urban n. pronounced the deposition of Juan I.,
and the next year conferred the crown of Castile on John
of Gaunt, with all the rights and privileges of a Crusade in
winning it. On February 18, 1386, the Crusade was pro-
claimed at St. Paul's. We are told by Sir James H. Ramsay,
in his Genesis of Lancaster (Oxford, 1913), that in response
' all England rang with the din of Lancaster's preparations :
ships and sailors were bespoke from all quarters as usual :
also miners from the forests of Dean, and carpenters from
Somerset and Devon.' On Easter Day, April 22, John of
Gaunt and Constanza took leave of the king and queen, and
were presented by them with golden crowns. In less than
three months, on a July Sunday, the fleet sailed from Ply-
mouth, ten big galleys of a hundred and eighty oars each,
and half a dozen minor craft. In due time the expedition
reached Corunna, or Coulogne as Froissart calls it ; and the
chronicler adds : ' In the morning it was great beauty to
behold entering into the haven the galleys and ships, charged
with men and provision, and to hear the trumpets and
clarions sound ; and the trumpets and clarions of the town
and castle did sound in like wise against them.' Evidently
resistance was to be made. Froissart is at his best in telling
the story ; but we must hasten on.

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 281

After spending more than a month at Corunna, the duke
set out for Compostella with his army, consisting of fifteen
hundred knights with as many archers. It took him three
days to get over the forty miles. At some distance from
the closed gates an embassy from the city met his messengers,
and demanded his intent. The English marshal addressed
the herald and his company : ' Ye captain and your men,
my lord the duke of Lancaster, and your lady of Lancaster,
daughter to King Don Pedro, your lord and king, hath sent
me hither to speak with you, and to know what ye will do
or say, either to receive them as ye should do your sovereign
lord and lady, or else they to assail you and take you by
force.' The city embassy demurred at the proposition to
surrender, but after some conference, in the end, doubtless
intimidated by the display of arms and strength and the
bluster of the English emissaries, they agreed to receive the
duke and duchess peaceably, and till the dispute was settled,
even for a year or two, to entertain them, unless King Juan
should drive them thence. The duke was content, and in
good order and some ceremony rode into the town.

Again Froissart becomes inimitably picturesque, and
among other things tells us of the devotion of the duke to
St. James :

' Within ii. lytell Frensshe myles of saynt James in Galyce,
there came in processyon all the clergy of the towne, with
crosses and relykes, and men, women, and chyldren, to mete
with the duke and the duches. And the men of the towne
brought the keys with them, whiche they presented to the
duke and to the duches, with their good wylles by all sem-
blaunt ; I can not say if they dyd it with theyr good hartes
or no : there they kneled downe, and receyved theyr lorde
and lady, and they entred into the towne of saynt James.
And the fyrst voyage they made, they wente to the chyrche
and all theyr chyldren, and made theyr prayers and offrynge
with grete giftes, and it was shewed me that the duke and
the duches and theyr ii. doughters, Phylyp and Katheryn,
were lodged in an abbay, and there kept theyr house ; and
that other lordes, as syr John Holande and syr Thomas
Moreaux and theyr wyves lodged in the towne, and al other
barons and knightes lodged abrode in the felde, in houses,
and bowres of bowes, for there were ynowe in the countrey.
They f ounde there flesshe and strong wyne ynough, wherof
the Englysshe archers dranke so moche that they were ofte
tymes dronken, wherby they had the fevers, or elles in the

282 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

mornyng theyr hedes were so evyl, that they coulde not
helpe themselfe all the day after.'

The duke and duchess stayed at Compostella a long time,
no doubt as diligent in their attention to St. James as the
custom of the age required and policy dictated. They held
receptions, conferred favours, and met the townspeople at
banquets and dances, thereby winning good will and kindly
opinion. In the meantime the knights and squires of their
company ' lyved at adventure where they might catche it.'
These wandering troopers met with some encouragement :
' The duke of Lancastres marshall rode abrode in the countrey
of Galyce, and made the countrey to turne to the obeysaunce
of the duke and duches, who lay at the towne of Compostella,
otherwyse called saynt James in Galyce.' But little was
gained by the English outside that province. The noble
and gentle folk of the country fought and sometimes pre-
vailed, and if they did not prevail they made terms with
the marauders and gave promise of conciliation ; but John
did not get Castile. Moreover, in the summer of 1387, he
and his wife and daughter Katheryn were taken sick at
Compostella ; and Froissart tells us : ' The duke of Lancastre
fyll in a perylous sicknesse in the towne of saynt Jaques ;
and oftentymes the brute ranne in Castyle and in Fraunce,
howe he was deed, and surely he was in a great adventure of
his lyfe.' But St. James stood by him, perhaps for the sake
of Constanza, the daughter of Castile, and restored him to
health, though he did not give him the kingdom.

It was not without design, however, that John of Gaunt
had brought with him to Spain, besides the duchess, his
daughter Philippa, by his first wife Blanche, and his daughter
Katheryn, by his second wife Constanza. Princesses were
valuable assets ; and after many desperate and fruitless
endeavours to subjugate the realm which he claimed as his
by right, John accepted peace and reached an agreement,
which turned out happily to all concerned, by marrying
Philippa to Juan i., king of Portugal, and Katheryn to
Henry, son and heir of Juan of Castile, afterwards King
Henry m. The duke resigned his claims and his title. In
the latter alliance, the rights of Constanza, daughter of
Pedro the Cruel, and the rights of the son of Henry of
Trastamara, Juan I., were united. Henry, the son of Juan
and the husband of Katheryn, was made Prince of the Asturias,
the title which the heir to the throne of Spain has ever since
borne. Perhaps the best remembered of the honours which

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 283

lighted on Henry m. and Katheryn, and to some extent,
as it happened, therefore on John of Gaunt and Constanza, is
that to their son, afterwards Juan n. of Castile, was born,
by Isabella of Portugal, the ever famous Isabella, queen of
Ferdinand of Aragon and patron of Christopher Columbus.
As an offset to Isabella, we may bring to mind that Eliza-
beth of England could trace her descent from the same
source.

But notwithstanding the marriage of the son of the king
of Castile to the daughter of the English duke, and the with-
drawal of the English army from Spain, the Spaniards do
not seem to have thought that they had obtained the better
part of the bargain. They became suspicious of the duke's
countrymen, and for some years refused to allow English
pilgrims to visit Compostella, and for more years would
suffer no Englishman to enter Spain without permission from
the king of France. Possibly English pilgrims were com-
mercial as well as religious, and had an eye to trade even
more than to devotion. They may have been suspected of
bringing in wares more costly than the relics they took out.

The men that had been with John of Gaunt in Castile
reported evil of the country. ' In Castile,' Froissart reports
them as saying, ' there is nothing but hard rocks and moun-
tains, which are not good to eat, and an untemperate air,
and troubled rivers, and diverse meats, and strong wines
and hot, and poor people, rude and evil arrayed, far off from
our manner.' But John of Gaunt himself is said to have
introduced from Spain the dance known as the Morisco, or
Moorish, or Morris dance, which for centuries made hearts
merry on English greens.

The kindness of St. James to John should not be over-
looked. His expedition to Spain had by no means failed.
He had married two daughters to princes, remunerated him-
self for his expenses, and no doubt satisfied his followers with
adventures and spoils.' If his vision of a crown had come to
naught, it was an evidence of St. James's favour. St. James
would save him from dangers and difficulties which in Spain
seem to come more readily than elsewhere to kings. Spain
has always been a hard country to rule : impatient and
divided, and rarely fond of foreigners. In those days re-
bellion broke out rather easily, and law obtained little respect.
A story runs that God once summoned before Him the patron
saints of the several kingdoms, and offered to grant what-
ever quality or virtue they desired their respective countries

284 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

to have. St. James the Apostle spoke for Spain. His
demands were extravagant, for very dearly did he love the
people who loved him so well. So he would that Spain
should have, men the wittiest of all mankind, and women
the most beautiful in the world. His petition was allowed,
and God gave Spain men and women the like of which for wit
and beauty are not to be found elsewhere on earth. ' Any-
thing else ? ' asked the angel who spoke for God, and who
most likely thought that this was more than enough, parti-
cularly when he began to wonder what France and Italy and
England would expect. ' Yes,' said St. James ; ' and also
the best government in the world ! ' This was too much
even for the Almighty. He sprang from His throne, and
exclaimed : ' No ! Spain shall never have any government
at all ! ' St. James stood back crestfallen ; but this is the
reason why rulers have found Spain so difficult to manage.

Thus, in refusing to give Castile to the duke and duchess
of Lancaster, St. James showed his thoughtfulness and
affection for them.

Old John of Gaunt ! A strange life in strange times ;
and yet times largely strange because they are so far away !
And he no more strange than many of his fellows ! His
much-enduring wife, Constanza, died March 24, 1394, fifteen
months after her sister, Isabel, duchess of York, and was
buried at Leicester. Two years later, John married
Katherine Roet, a native of Hainault and widow of Sir Hugh
Swynf ord. ' There was much marvel both in England and
in France, for she was but of a base lineage, in regard to the
two other wives.' The royal ladies ' laid great blame to the
duke for that deed.' Their censures did not affect the duke.
He insisted on doing justice to the woman he had loved
above all other women. The disparaged Katherine in her
youth had been attached to the household of the duchess
Blanche, where she remained after her marriage to Sir Hugh ;
and after Blanche's death she became guardian or governess
to her little girls Philippa and Elizabeth. It is a pitiful,
though not an uncommon story, but John legitimated
Katherine's three sons. Froissart says : ' And the duke
loved greatly the children that he had by her, and that he
showed well in his life and after his death ! ' Then, Feb-
ruary 3, 1399, at the age of fifty-five, he died, and was buried
beside Blanche his first wife in St. Paul's Cathedral :

' His tongue is now a stringless instrument :
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.'

MORE ROYAL FRIENDS 285

Men called him above all things else just. To his son Henry
Bolingbroke, his brother Edmund, in his old age, recalled his
comradeship and courage :

' Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
As when brave Gaunt thy father, and myself,
Rescu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
Prom forth the ranks of many thousand French ! '

Men invoked 'the buried hand of warlike Gaunt.' And
they sang masses for his soul's weal ; and one cannot but
hope with effect. For it should be remembered that when
John of Gaunt and his wife and children entered the town
of St. James, ' the first voyage they made, they went to
the church and all their children, and made their prayers
and offerings with great gifts.'

Thus they brightened still more the golden days of Sant-
iago ' with great gifts.' They did their utmost honour to
the blessed Apostle of Galicia. In their boundless hope of
triumph they knelt at his shrine, and praised him who had
brought an orphaned princess to her own again. And as
John of Gaunt, brave, noble Lancaster, in the day of his
strength had served St. James, so in the day of his weakness
St. James should serve him, even to the clouding of his
faults and the clearing of his fame.

CHAPTER XXI

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS

IN the last chapter, while drawing attention to some of the
world's great men and women who contributed to the in-
crease of the power and fame of the Apostle of Galicia, I
endeavoured to illustrate the type of saint made out of
kings by that phase of the religious spirit of the Middle Ages
which had its chief expression in pilgrimage and shrine-
worship. I shall now present some examples of the effect
produced by the same means on men of less exalted rank :
among them a scholar and a statesman, both of them in
some phases of their life saintly and sinful enough to be
really human. Even should I fail to make clear my purpose
or to add much to the general subject, I think I shall make
better known to the reader some men whom it is worth
while knowing.

The name of Raymond Lull, or Ramon Lull, as it is more
correctly given in Spanish, is not commonly familiar, and in
these days few undertake to read his numerous treatises ;
but they who make the venture, even should they disagree
with his philosophy or theology, soon come to regard him as
one of the outstanding scholars and thinkers of the Middle
Ages. They realize that not without justice did his country-
men style him Doctor illuminatus, and venerate him, even
in his lifetime, and much more so after his death, as chief
among their teachers and poets. And, indeed, as such and
also as mystic, missionary, and man of saintly life, he is
worthy of high praise ; and the work he did both in literature
and in philanthropy is deserving of warm remembrance.
It is easy to exaggerate his character, attainments, and
position ; but when due allowance is made for such, enough
remains to justify setting him among the foremost men
Spain has produced.

He was born at Palma de Mallorca, January 25, 1235, six
years after the conquest of the Balearic Islands from the
Moors by Jaime of Aragon, surnamed the Conqueror. This
king has his place among the most romantic and capable

286

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 287

of Spanish princes. At his birth his mother decided that
he should be named after an Apostle. Accordingly twelve
candles of equal size were provided, each called after one
of the Twelve Disciples. The candles were lighted at the
same time, and the candle bearing the name of St. James
outlasted all the others by ' a good three fingers' breadth.'
So the little prince was named Jaime, and devoted to the
Son of Zebedee. In a Chronicle which he wrote in his
mature age, he tells us that he was left an orphan in his
seventh year, fought his first battle in his tenth, married in
his twelfth, and exercised his full powers as a king before his
twentieth. He was a man of resolute character, quick
resources, fine physical development, immense strength,
and seven feet in height. His orthodoxy and piety could
be no more questioned than his moral laxity could be denied.
His ambition was no less pronounced.

The story of Mallorca has been recently told in delightful
style by Henry C. Shelley, an Englishman resident in the
island, in his Majorca (published London, 1926). Here the
reader may find much that concerns both King Jaime and
Ramon Lull: some particulars indeed that enable me to
enrich my own readings of the two men.

King Jaime had hardly reached his twenty-second year
when he made his expedition against Mallorca. He had
already pledged himself for a Crusade to the Holy Land, but
he determined first to dislodge the adversaries of the Cross
from the islands near his own kingdom. The voyage thither
was stormy, and the king was so ' greatly discomforted ' as
to turn to prayer. But all obstacles were overcome. The
Moors sent out of the city four hundred men to demolish
the besieging enemy. ' All the four hundred were killed,
and James is credited with having decapitated them and
thrown their heads into the city by one of his slings.' The
struggle was bitter and long, but when the final assault was
made, ' the first to enter the city was a white-armoured
knight on horseback, clearly,' so Mr. Shelley says, ' that
ubiquitous St. George without whose presence no battle
between the Cross and the Crescent was complete.' If the
mysterious knight really was St. George, I can only suppose
that St. James refused to help his namesake because of that
ghastly use of the four hundred heads.

So Mallorca fell into Spanish hands. In the end the con-
quest was without qualification. Completely demoralized
by their victory, the invaders gave themselves to wholesale

288 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

pillage. King Jaime says in his Chronicle : ' Lo ! our
Lord had dealt so with us, that every man in the army
found so much spoil that no one had occasion to quarrel
with his neighbour.' And the Chronicle further adds :
' When day came, all the men of my household went away,
not one came back for eight days; each held to what he
had taken in the city, and was so pleased with it that not
one would return.'

Ramon Lull's father, a member of a wealthy and leading
family that could trace its descent back to the time of
Charlemagne, freely assisted Bang Jaime in this expedition,
and thereby brought himself into still greater favour with
the royal house, receiving in turn such extensive tracts of
land that he abandoned the mainland and established his
home on the island. When the boy was old enough he is
said to have been made a page in the king's court ; and later,
besides inheriting his father's estate, he became steward of
the king's house in Mallorca. He is said to have lived a
wild, dissolute life, so enamoured of ' the joys of the world '
that he 'forgot the true God and pursued carnal things.'
So dissipated was he that even the king, who by no means
set an example of better living, decided that marriage was
the most promising remedy. Accordingly, when about
twenty years of age he was married to a lady of some wealth,
and possibly of some beauty. But neither a rich and
attractive wife nor the three children she bore him cured
him of his unruly passions. He followed the beauties of
the court, among them a noble and married lady of Genoa,
to whom he addressed a poem on the theme of her bosom.
She showed the effusion to her husband. He bade her warn
him that the very bosom he had extolled might destroy his
illusion. But one day, riding on horseback through the
plaza, he saw the lady of his adoration enter the Church of
St. Eulalia for prayer. Without waiting to dismount, he
dashed into the sacred building to make his suit once more.
Then came the awakening. The lady uncovered her bosom
and pointed to the malignant sore which was corroding its
beauty. She exclaimed : ' See, Ramon Lull, the object of
your desire ! Behold the state of the body in which your
heart has centred its hopes ! ' And she added : ' The long-
ing you have shown for me, now turn to Christ ! '

Thus ended this phase of his career. He was now thirty
years of age about the same age in which conversion came
to St. Augustine. Whether it was this incident which

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 289

induced the change, or a vision of Christ which he saw while
writing a sensual poem, is uncertain. But in the year 1266,
so he tells us, on five different occasions he beheld an appear-
ance of Christ crucified. As Mr. Shelley puts it, he ' found
that all his delights were as the apples of the Dead Sea shore.
His old life lay in ruins about him : what was to take its
place ? ' But he looked not back. The worldly life had
gone for ever. So he left wife, children, court, and wealth,
all that he had on earth to call his own, and went into the
wilds of the mountain of Randa, in the interior of Mallorca,
there to weep over his sins and excesses, and to find the way
through prayer and contemplation to the Cross of Peace
and Love.

Not for many years did this seclusion in the wilderness
bring forth its best results, and then the severe discipline
and unfaltering meditation expressed themselves in one of
the most helpful and most poetic classics that mysticism
has produced : The Book of the Lover and the Beloved the
nature of which may be surmised from this verse : ' Said
the Lover to the Beloved : " Thou that fillest the sun with
splendour, fill my heart with love." And the Beloved
answered : " Hadst thou not fullness of love, thine eyes had
not shed those tears, neither hadst thou come to this place
to see Him that loves thee." '

If in my pages I shall do no more than bring the reader's
attention to this book, so little in size but so vast in spirit,
I shall be near satisfaction ; and could I but think that
pilgrims to Compostella prepared themselves along the lines
suggested in Raymond Lull's book, my regret would be
much greater when I come to speak of the passing away
of the Cult of St. James. They who know it well will not
think me extravagant when I place it beside the Gospel of
St. John and the Imitation of Christ as one of the most
wonderful treatises on the spiritual life ever written.

' It is beyond question,' says Mr. Shelley in a passage that
should be reprinted in every translation of the book, ' that
that little classic of mysticism is richly coloured by the
author's memory of what he saw and heard in his mountain
retreat. The singing of birds, the hues and perfumes of
flowers, the dazzling brilliance of the lightning and the soft
palette of the rainbow, the glare of the noontide sun and
the restful spaces of the midnight sky, the paths which
invite over hill and plain, the thunder of the storm, the
distant murmur of the sea how was it possible for Lull to

T

290 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

forget these as parables fraught with hidden meaning in
the Lover's relation to the Beloved ? '

But Raymond Lull came out into the world of activity,
and devoted himself to preparation for the work which he
saw clearly before him, the winning of the Moors and other
heathen to the Cross. He became a tertiary of the Fran-
ciscan order ; visited Rome and Paris, Montpelier, Genoa,
and other cities ; spent some time at Compostella ; and
bought a Saracen slave that from him he might acquire a
fluent knowledge of his language. By the way, when the
slave discovered that his master was learning Arabic in order
to combat the Moslem faith, he determined to murder him.
In the struggle, Raymond Lull proved the stronger man.
Undoubtedly St. James came to the rescue. Raymond
wondered how he should punish his assailant. But the
evil-minded unbeliever solved his master's perplexity by
hanging himself.

Lull's ideas of evangelization met with little favour.
Where kings and knights, and bishops too, endeavoured by
force to bring unbelievers to the Cross, he taught that the
only weapons Christ and His Apostles used for their con-
quest had been ' love, prayers, and the outpouring of tears.'
His philosophy of life is crystallized in the golden words :
' He who loves not lives not.' The scholastic side of his
teaching is now slightly regarded ; but in that age, and it
is true of every age, the multitude could not turn from ' the
vivid personality of a man aflame with the love of God and
consumed with a burning passion for the salvation of men.'
But though the most notable figure in the annals of Mallorca,
and loved and followed by many both in his own country
and abroad, and in modern times venerated by all who know
anything about him, he was not generally admired by con-
temporary ecclesiastics and theologians.

In high places and by men who pretended to know more
than he did, many of his opinions were considered fantastical :
some were condemned, especially by the Dominicans
fiercest and most belligerent of Spanish societies. He was
fearless and apt in his criticism both of Averroes and of
Dominic ; and he was hated by all who admired them.
By courtesy he was spoken of as a saint ; by his opponents
he was called a rationalist. Indefatigable, buoyant with
hope, courageous and sympathetic, he faced the odds set
against him, believed both in God and in man, saw good
even in the Moor and the pagan, and despised retreat or

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 291

failure. His aim was at least to present in the light of prob-
ability the fundamental truths of the religion in which he
was born and which he believed. In this he foreshadowed
the philosophy of Bishop Butler. Yet, as with Elijah the
Tishbite, there were times when he felt that he had achieved
little, perhaps nothing. Even the Pope and his cardinals,
to whom he looked at least for encouragement, had failed
him. In the disappointment of his soul he wrote, ' For I
urge upon them, and demonstrate quite clearly how the
world may be ordered, and that right soon ; but they despise
and mock me, as though I were a fool who spoke idly.'

But he turned not aside from his mission. ' Forty years
he spent,' says Burke, 'in Spain, in France, in Italy, in
Africa, and even on the far eastern shores of the Mediter-
ranean, teaching rather than preaching, disputing rather
than compelling, arguing rather than persecuting, concern-
ing himself rather with the errors of Averroism than with
minor dogmatic divergencies.'

' It was on one of these expeditions,' says Professor E.
Allison Peers, referring to his campaigns in Africa, ' when he
had passed his fourscore years, that he was stoned by a mob
at Bugia ; he died from the effects of this, and according
to a tradition, which may not be correct, his death occurred
on St. Peter's Day, 1315, when he was returning by sea to
Mallorca, and was within sight of the land.'

Mr. Sinclair finds another form of the legend. ' It tells,'
he says, ' how the Moslem crowd stoned him to death on
the seashore, and how the mariners of a passing Genoese
vessel, seeing a pyramid of light there, landed and dis-
covered the martyr's body and took it on board their ship.
And the narrative adds that the intentions of the Genoese
to carry the body to their city were thwarted by adverse
winds, which compelled them to enter Palma Bay, and that
there invisible forces kept the vessel stationary until some
people of the city went on board and transferred the martyr
to his native soil.'

With this story in mind, some of the lines in that exquisite
poem dealing with the relations between the soul and God,
already referred to, seem prophetical.

Professor Peers quotes the following :

' The birds hymned the dawn, and the Lover, who
is the dawn, awakened. And the birds ended
their song, and the Lover died in the dawn
for his Beloved.'

292 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Then it was that

' The Beloved revealed Himself to His Lover, clothed
in new and scarlet robes. He stretched out His
Arms to embrace him ; He inclined His Head to kiss
him ; and He remained on high that he might ever
seek Him.'

So would I add another line :

' The Lover died, by reason of his exceeding great
love. The Beloved buried him in his country,
wherein the Lover rose again. From' which think-
est thou, received the Lover the greater bless-
ing, whether from his death or from his
resurrection ? '

Thus one of earth's mightiest souls passed away. ' With
the crown of martyrdom which for so long he had desired, he
entered into the joy of his Lord.' In one of the chapels in
the church of San Francisco at Palma, his relics repose in
an alabaster urn-tomb : ' the most beautiful of Majorca's
mortuary monuments.' His countrymen have long since
canonized him, but, in spite of all efforts on the part of
Spanish princes and ecclesiastics, the Roman See has gone
no farther than his beatification. Yet on his festal day,
July 3, the city of Palma does honour to its most famous
and best beloved son. There are processions through the
streets, in which the chief dignitaries of Church and State
have part ; and Mr. Shelley says : ' It is perhaps the most
moving tribute of all that on that fiesta day the streets of
Palma are strewn with branches of that lentiscus bush
which takes the imagination back to the solitary spaces of
Mount Randa.'

Professor Allison Peers not long since published the first
translation into English ever made of Raymond Lull's romance
Blanquerna ; and thereby he has laid under lasting obliga-
tion, not only all who care for the life and literature of the
Middle Ages, but also every man and woman in the world
whose soul inclines to what is known theologically as Mysti-
cism. To this translation he has added the version of The
Book of the Lover and the Beloved, which he had previously
published through the Society for the Promotion of Christian
Knowledge.

In this romance, the earliest of Catalan classics, we have a
story told in simplicity and sincerity, as it might be ' a tale
round the fire in winter by some unlettered follower of Christ,

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 293

whose only art was love.' It has the spirit that at least
suggests the Faerie Queen and the Pilgrim's Progress. Like
St. Francis, whose example he tried diligently to follow,
Raymond Lull inculcated humility of life, the unselfish care
of the poor, and the superiority of argument to force. The
hero is taken successively through the careers, first, of man
of the world, and then of priest, bishop, cardinal, and pope ;
and last of all into the life of the recluse. His ecclesiastical
experience enables the author to set forth his ideals of the
duties and purposes of the several offices. That the ideals
are scarcely possible of realization in this complex world
does not detract from their value. That Lull should have
presented them with such emphasis and persistency indicates
that he felt the absence even of a moderate idealism one of
the evils of the age. Saintliness of life did not always go
with dignity of office. Possibly he expected too much, but
in all ages they who desire the Church to be what Christ
wished it to be will sympathize with Raymond Lull's vision
of purity and sacrifice, of service unfaltering, and of love
that knows neither change nor decline. His was the struggle
for absorption into God.

As a novel the modern reader will find Blanquerna prolix
and tiresome, the movement slow, and in some passages in-
sufferably dull. It deals with the religious life, perhaps I
should say with the political and domestic life, from a point
of view characteristic of the thirteenth century, but im-
possible in the twentieth. Yet the story of Blanquerna and
of his parents, wife, and friends, and of his adventures in
social and church life, is worth reading, not only because it
affords some idea of the lighter literature thought suitable
for the times, but also for its philosophy, its style, and its
interpolations. These interpolations, as abundant as in
eighteenth-century romances, are sometimes as curious and
unexpected as they are interesting. Not only do they tell of
odd experiences, but they also give bits of rare information.
Thus, for instance, we are told of a wood in Bohemia, a
pagan wood to be sure, that ' if any man cuts a branch from
a tree in that wood, straightway come lightning and thunder
from the heavens and set in peril of death every man who
is in that wood.'

But the story which concerns us more nearly than all
others refers to pilgrims on the way to Compostella. Evan-
gelists had been sent out into the world to proclaim the
Passion of Christ. Raymond Lull knew whereof he wrote

294 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

and the frequent condition of pilgrims. Possibly he him-
self was the messenger spoken .of.

'It came to pass one day,' says he, 'that one of the
messengers departed from a town and went to a castle, and
on the way he found a great multitude of pilgrims who were
going to Santiago, so he fell in company with them, and
went with them as far as Santiago ; and as they journeyed
along the road he related to them examples and devout
words, and recounted the histories of the Old Testament
and of the New, and described to them the events which
are in the lives of the Popes and the Emperors, according
as is written in the chronicles. So great was the pleasure
which the pilgrims had in his good words, that the greater
devotion came to them in their pilgrimage, and in their
journeying and their trials they had the less suffering ;
wherefore many other men took that same office, to the end
that they might beguile the way of the pilgrims and set
them in devotion.'

Perhaps Chaucer had less devotion than Raymond Lull
at least the Canterbury pilgrims heard stories of a kind
different from those given the wayfarers to Compostella.
Blanquerna represents this duty of instructing pilgrims on
their journey as done regularly. The messenger should take
naught from any pilgrim. If he had need, the bishop of
the country through which he was travelling should give
him help. Once it happened that a certain man, with
intent to gather much money, feigned to be a messenger.
* He went with the pilgrims, who gave to him freely and
showed him much kindness.' His deception was found out,
and he was taken and put in prison.

This is a pleasing illustration of the care taken to draw out
and develop the more spiritual quality in the pilgrim. We
may reasonably suppose faith present in all who took the
pains and gave the cost of pilgrimage ; but it is next to
certain that in many who did so faith was rather acquiescent
than active. Pilgrimage did not always bring heart and
mind into touch with the deep things of religion. By his
prayers and offerings, generally honest and true enough, the
pilgrim may have made expiation for his sins, fulfilled his
vows of gratitude for deliverance from evil, and received
hope in his sorrow and encouragement for his plans ; but he
may not necessarily have entered into greater appreciation
or surer consciousness of the love of God, the hatefulness
of sin, or the joy of consecration. The benefits received

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 295

accorded with his capacity, and the capacity depended
largely on the mental and spiritual preparation. It was to
this preparation, not for himself, but for others, that Ray-
mond Lull devoted his time and efforts. He would have
penitents and pilgrims not only prostrate themselves before
the shrines of saints, but bring themselves into closest sym-
pathy with those qualities which go to the making of saints.
He was not alone in this. The Church has never been
without witnesses to the higher life. In her darkest and
most distressful days there were always men presenting,
both in precept and action, not so much the physical benefits
of pilgrimage, but first of all the spiritual grace. It is true
that the evil has been ever mingled with the good : but the
good has always kept itself in health and vigour.

Perhaps the highest commendation given to Raymond
Lull was a forgery carried out by a Dominican, Nicholas
Eymerico, the Grand Inquisitor of Aragon. In 1376 he
presented a Bull from Pope Gregory XL, condemning Ray-
mond Lull's philosophy in no less than five hundred par-
ticulars. Among them was pronounced anathema his
declaration, ' That it is wrong to put men to death for their
religious opinions, and that the mass of mankind will be
saved, even Jews and Saracens.' This sentence of con-
demnation was denounced as a fraud in 1563 by the Council
of Trent ; though it is not to be supposed that the Council
agreed even generally with the opinions of Raymond Lull.
The decree, however, implied an appreciation of the honesty
and beauty of his life.

Raymond Lull had little to do immediately with Compo-
stella ; nor had Godric, a Norfolk merchant and saint, his
opposite in intellect, social position, and ideal of Christian
work, whom I shall now consider : and yet both men had
worshipped there; and both illustrated the spirit which
found its expression and development in pilgrimage.

Godric seems to have been of humble birth and to have
followed a humble calling. When not helping his father on
the farm or the sheep-walk, he wandered through the country
peddling wares. After sixteen years in this business, he
' began to think of spending on charity, to God's honour
and service, the goods which he had so laboriously acquired.'
He had always been seriously minded, ever seeking to declare
the glory of God, thus taking after his parents, who were
abundant in righteousness and virtue ; and this, be it ob-
served, in an age which many people nowadays fondly think

296 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

was without real, heartfelt religion. Taking the cross as a
pilgrim, he set out for Jerusalem, which had just been taken
by the first crusaders. The Dictionary of National Bio-
graphy thinks there is no need to doubt his identity with
the ' Gudericus, pirata de regno Angliae,' with whom, on
May 29, 1102, Baldwin I. of Jerusalem sailed from Arsuf to
Jaffa. ' Pirata ' is of course used in a sense afterwards
changed : unless, as more likely, attacks on foreign ships
were considered the proper thing. Having visited the Holy
Sepulchre, he came back to England by way of Compostella.
He says nothing about St. James, but we may be sure that
he performed at his shrine whatever was expected of him or
would tend to allay the distress of conscience which seems
grievously to have afflicted him. If he were the pirate who
befriended King Baldwin, he may have sailed in a ship of
his own, or hired for the purpose, all the way from Norfolk,
say from Yarmouth, past Gibraltar, up the Mediterranean
to Jaffa possibly have taken some part with Baldwin in his
raids on neighbouring Saracen ports, thus, as Englishmen
were wont, combining pursuits profitable with duties spiritual
and on his voyage home stopped at Corunna, and thence
made the journey to Santiago.

He is described by his biographer, Reginald, a monk of
Durham, who, anticipating Boswell's habit with Dr. Johnson,
took notes of his words on the day on which they were
uttered, as { vigorous and strenuous in mind, whole of limb,
and strong in body.' His sensibilities were as keen as his
convictions were definite and his determinations irrevocable.
After his return from the Holy Land, he became a ' dispen-
sator ' to a rich countryman. How long he held this office
is not told, but unwittingly he feasted with fellow-servants
who provided the means of their luxurious banquets by
stealing their neighbours' goods and cattle. The distress of
Godric when he discovered this iniquity was such that he
threw up his office, and went on a pilgrimage to Rome, the
abode of the Apostles, ' that thus he might knowingly pay
the penalty for those misdeeds wherein he had ignorantly
partaken.'

The more he frequented sacred places, the more he
yearned for solitude and opportunities for penitence. He
wept over the recollection of his sins, and no less so at the
thought of the saints, their privations, and their holiness.
Yet so far as we know, he had no sins such as St. Augus-
tine and Raymond Lull had to repent of ; not even the

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 297

blasphemy and bell-ringing of which John Bunyan accused
himself.

After his visits to Palestine, Spain, and Rome, he abode
awhile in his father's house. Then, his biographer tells us,
inflamed again with holy zeal, he purposed to revisit the
abode of the Apostles, and made his desire known to his
parents. Not only did they approve his purpose, but his
mother besought his leave to bear him company on this
pilgrimage ; which he gladly granted, and willingly paid her
every filial service that was her due. * Godric, humbly
serving his parent, was wont to bear her on his shoulders.'
They came, therefore, to London ; and they had scarcely
departed from thence when his mother took off her shoes,
going thus barefooted to Rome and back to London.

' Near London,' so continues the narrative, ' the travellers
were joined by an unknown woman " of wondrous beauty."
Every evening, as Godric himself told Reginald, the stranger
would wash the travellers' feet ; nor did she leave them till
they neared London on the way back.' The pilgrims had
no difficulty in discovering this daily companion and mys-
terious servitor to be none other than the Blessed Virgin.
She had ever been kindly disposed to Godric ; perhaps
because of his prayer, which Professor Henry Morley, in his
English Writers, thus translates :

' St. Mary, Virgin Mother of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
take, shield, help thy Godric ;

take, bring him quickly with thee into God's kingdom !
St. Mary, Christ's bower, maiden's purity, mother's flower,
wash out my sin, reign in my mind,
bring me to dwell with the only God ! '

Godric and his mother returned home safely, and Godric
firmly purposed to give himself entirely to God's service;
' That he might follow Christ the more freely, he sold all his
possessions and distributed them among the poor. Then,
telling his parents of this purpose and receiving their bless-
ing, he went forth to no certain abode, but whithersoever the
Lord should deign to lead him ; for above all things he
coveted the life of a hermit.' Finally he settled for the rest
of his days at Finchale, near Durham. The Blessed Virgin
regularly visited his cell, and not only consoled him in his
privations, but also taught him a piece of music which has
come down to us.

Here he had visions which, written down by the trust-

298 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

worthy Reginald, were treasured by the devout north-country
people for centuries. Probably the uncultured folk regarded
these visions as physically real ; but St. Godric is recorded
to have said, and his testimony probably applies to all the
visions we have spoken of in this study, * that after seeing
a vision of a departed soul, that he saw not the soul itself,
for it was invisible, but that what he saw was a form which
signified its presence.' Thus, for instance so we are told
in the Lives of the English Saints, edited by John Henry
Newman some time in the night of June 7, 1159, ' the man
of God, Godric, saw while he was praying, an intense light
penetrating into the darkness of the night and two walls
of brightness reaching from earth to heaven. Between
these walls angels were flying up to heaven, bearing, with
songs of joy, the soul of Abbot Robert, one on the right hand,
the other on the left. The soul, as far as it could be seen,
was like a globe of fire. As they were ascending, the enemy
of the human race met them, but went back in confusion,
for he could find nothing to lay hold of in him. And the
servant of God saw the soul of his dear friend thus ascend
to heaven, of which the gates were opened for him. And,
lo ! a voice was heard, repeating twice, " Enter now, my
friends ! " '

His clairvoyance enabled him to know what was going on
in the world far from his hermitage. About the year 1162
he asked a visitor from Westminster about the newly-elected
archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, ' whom he had
seen in dreams, and would be able to recognize in a crowd.'
He knew the time of the death of a sister who lived a recluse
at Durham ; and he was anxious concerning her eternal
welfare. In response to his entreaty there came from
heaven an angelic chorus of 'Kyrie Eleison,' and thus she
spoke to him :

* Christ and Saint Mary thus supported me led
That I on this earth should not with my bare foot tread.'

I do not suppose that St. Godric meant that she physically
made this utterance. This he would have us think is what
she would have said had she spoken. He put the words in
her mouth poor words, perhaps, but the best he could
shape. One other fragment of his rhymed verse has come
down to us : three bits in all :

' Saint Nicholas, God's lover, build us a fair, beautiful house.
By thy birth, by thy bier, Saint Nicholas bring us well there.'

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 299

But if his poetic attempts fell abysmally below those of
Raymond Lull, his saintliness and his achievements as a
pilgrim came not short of any whose names are revered by
hagiographers. Thus we are told that when on pilgrimage
to Jerusalem, ' Not till he had worshipped in the holy
sepulchre and bathed in the Jordan, did Godric take his
rotten shoes from his ulcerated feet.'

He had other gifts ; and though too much dependence
must not be placed on his own declaration that he was in-
structed by the Blessed Virgin, the Encyclopaedia Britannica
holds that his music was a deliberate innovation. It shows
both originality and skill. Perhaps he felt that it had to
be introduced by an authority more likely to be recognized
than his own.

He spent the last efforts of his life in the consciousness
that he had realized the dream of his youth. Almost his
last recorded words, in which he told a visitor that he was
soon ' to pass the borders of the Great Sea,' showed that his
thoughts were wandering back to the pilgrimages of his
early life. The inscription on his tomb states that he died
on the Thursday next before Whitsuntide, May 21, 1170,
after ' having led a hermit's life for sixty years.' Neverthe-
less, as Mr. Coulton, summing up the Durham monk's narra-
tive, states, for the last eight years of his life he was bed-
ridden and beset by devils in visible form, almost to the
day of his death. His actual passing was in physical struggle
and inward peace.

One feels assured, even though one may not regard the
career of a hermit or a pilgrim as the highest form of Christian
life, that St. Godric had in heart and mind a purpose both
sincere and sacred. He is an example of twelfth-century
ideals ideals that found their expression in weary journey-
ings and dismal solitudes : a man who had no difficulty in
believing that St. James of Compostella and others like him
were still living personalities, able to sympathize with and
to help earth's sad folk. Had Raymond Lull heard of him
he would have thought kindly of him. But with his theories
of government, I am sure that Raymond Lull would not have
sided with Philip of Durham in his support of the cause of
King John, even though the Bishop Palatine braved excom-
munication, and made a pilgrimage to Compostella for the
remission of his sins, * with the most devout faith.'

And yet, perhaps, he would have been happily incon-
sistent enough to waive his condemnation of the use of force

300 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

in the conversion of the Moors, when he heard of the efforts
of Christian knights to free his country from those people.
I would bring to mind a soldier who in Lull's own day fought
desperately for Spain. Had Lull lived another fifteen
years, till 1330, he would have lamented the death in battle
against the Misbelievers of that valiant and renowned
Scottish knight, Lord James of Douglas :

' The Good Sir James, the dreadful blacke Douglas,
That in his dayes so wise and worthie was,
Wha here, and on the infidels of Spain,
Such honour, praise, and triumphs did obtain.'

By the way, a marvellous warrior who out of seventy battles
won fifty-seven, and, as Sir Walter Scott reminds us, a man
of true magnanimity and invincible mind in either fortune,
good or bad ; moreover, we may be sure a devout servant
of blessed James of Compostella :

' Good Sir James Douglas, who wise, and wight, and worthy was,
Was never overglad in no winning, nor yet oversad for no tineing;
Good fortune and evil chance he weighed both in one balance.'

It will be remembered that before his death, in 1329,
Robert I., king of Scotland, ' the Bruce,' desired Sir James
of Douglas to carry his heart to Palestine in redemption of
his unfulfilled vow to visit the Holy Sepulchre. Douglas
set out bearing a silver casket containing the embalmed
heart of Bruce. He went by way of Compostella, signifi-
cantly, I think, as indicating the devotion of the king to
St. James, and perhaps his own regard for his own patron
saint. If not in life, the king would send his heart as repre-
sentative of himself and his desires. Perhaps while at
Compostella the Douglas deposited his master's heart before
the shrine. There is no record of Douglas's presence in
the church, but I have no doubt he was there. On August
25, 1330, he fell fighting the Moors ; and the heart of Bruce,
recovered by Sir William Keith, in 1332, found its resting-
place at Melrose.

The reference to Douglas reminds me of Anthony Wood-
ville, the second Earl Rivers, born about the year 1442, who
as a scholar and statesman, an exemplar of prudence and
religion, if not as a soldier, belonged to the order of Raymond
Lull. The forty years of his life are full of interest. His
sister Elizabeth, in 1464, married King Edward iv. ; and
his cousin, Anne Haute, was engaged to his friend Sir John

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 301

Paston. Here we get into touch with the Paston family,
and with that unique and invaluable fifteenth-century cor-
respondence known as the Paston Letters their preserva-
tion a romance.

Earl Rivers is referred to in these letters ; and I bring the
letters forward, not only to remind the reader of this priceless
collection, whereby the social and political life of a middle-
class English family in the days of the Lancastrians and
Yorkists is brought to light, but also to illustrate the tendency
in such a family to pilgrimage. Living in Norfolk, one of
the busiest and most prosperous parts of England, the
Pastons were religious folk, not more so than their neighbours,
though quite as much as the general run of them, stolid and
dull perhaps, not overtaught in doctrine, but immovable in
opinion and conviction. They could afford to indulge in
somewhat expensive devotions, even to travelling far from
home and making costly offerings. The most popular in
England of all pilgrimages was that to Compostella, much
more so than to our Lady of Walsingham or to St. Thomas of
Canterbury. Provision was made for those who could not
go abroad.

' For hundreds of years,' says Dr. George C. Williamson,
in his Curious Survivals a book brimful of interesting odds
and ends ' representations of the shrine of St. James used
to be erected in the streets and churches, in order that those
who could not make the long pilgrimage should perform
their devotions before the shrine of St. James in their own
parish, and people were reminded in the highways of their
duty on that particular day,' July 25. Not so many years
since it could be said, ' Children at the present time prepare
a little grotto, light it up with a candle, and ask for a con-
tribution just as their ancestors did in times past for the
larger shrines that were erected both in the streets and in
the churches.' These caves or piles were built of oyster-
shells cast out from taverns or fish-shops ; and passers-by
were importuned, ' Pray remember the grotto ! ' With the
pennies received, the candle stuck on top and lighted at
night was kept up, and the children obtained some com-
pensation for their trouble.

The Pastons may have been familiar with the custom, so
far as the grotto in the church, but they did not need the
relief, and I refer to it here to keep the reader constantly in
mind of the continued and widespread attractiveness in
England of the cult of St. James. I am not sure that the

302 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

custom tended to further the spiritual purpose of pilgrimage ;
but for the present we may overlook that doubt. Whatever
the disposition of the pilgrim, he was usually respected.
About the year 1450, Agnes Paston wrote to her son John
that she had heard while at Norwich one day that some
enemies had landed near Paston the hamlet whence the
family got its name and had ' taken ij pilgrims, a man and
a woman, and they robbed the woman, and let her go, and
led the man to the sea, and when they knew he was a pilgrim,
they gave him money, and set him again on the land.'

Agnes Paston had two sons, both named John : one
Sir John, the elder, who for most of the time lived a gay
life in London, and the other John, the younger, who looked
after the homestead at Paston. The latter seems to have
been the more religious of the two ; the former, a man of
culture, extravagance, and political outlook, had prudence
enough to change with the fortunes of the Lancastrians
and Yorkists. On June 22, 1470, John Paston the younger
wrote to his brother Sir John that he purposed going to
Canterbury on foot within the week ' the holy blisful
martir for to seke ' and to come back by way of London.
He was going from Norfolk, and three days later he writes
that that day sevennight he trusts to be forward to Canter-
bury at farthest, and upon Saturday come sevennight to
be in London. John the younger seems to have been more
especially the pilgrim for the family. In May 1473 Sir John
speaks of his brother John as going to ' Seyn James.' Dr.
Gairdner says, ' It does not appear what prompted this
pious expedition, unless it was the prevalence of sickness and
epidemics in England.' John went his way, and it would
have been worth something had he told us what he saw
while in Compostella or while travelling hither and thither.
Sir John writes July 5, 1473 : * As for my brother John, I
hope within this month to see him in Calais, for by likelihood
to-morrow or else the next day he taketh ship at Yarmouth,
and goeth to Saint James ward, and he hath written to me
that he will come homeward by Calais.' From this it would
appear that he went by sea from Yarmouth presumably to
Corunna, and came back by land a long journey which
must have made the Norfolk squire famous for life.

In a letter to Sir John towards the end of the year 1471,
the younger John spoke of Lord Eivers as going abroad ;
and, indeed, in October Lord Rivers had obtained safe-
conduct for a voyage to Portugal, ' to be at a day upon the

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 303

Saracens.' On January 8, 1472, Sir John wrote to his
mother : ' Men say that the Lord Rivers shipped on
Christmas even in to Portugal ward ; I am not certain.'
The rumour was true. The year 1471 had seen Edward iv.
secure on the throne. The Lancastrians were defeated, and
Rivers had now time and opportunity to devote to other
pursuits than that of helping his brother-in-law.

He was already famous for his skill both in books and
in arms. Knighted before he became of age, in 1467 he
challenged to single fight the Bastard of Burgundy, mightiest
of knightly champions, and met him in one of the most
famous tournaments of the age. He was winning when
the combat was called off. He fought in the battles of
Barnet and Tewkesbury, and defended London against the
Lancastrians. His relationship to the king, his wealth, and
his abilities made him one of the most influential men in the
realm. For some years, as Dr. Edmund Gosse says, ' there
was no man in England of greater responsibility or enjoy-
ing more considerable honours in the royal service.' He
had been lord of the Isle of Wight, an ambassador to Bur-
gundy, lieutenant of Calais, and captain of the king's armada,
before there was committed to his care the young Prince of
Wales, his nephew. He became the patron and associate
of Carton. His family was connected with the most power-
ful houses in England. He had a younger brother, John,
who at twenty years of age was married, in 1465, to a
juvencula of nearly eighty, Catherine, dowager duchess of
Norfolk, and aunt of Warwick the kingmaker : maritagiwm,
diabolicum, says William of Worcester. Anthony himself
was more suitably married to Elizabeth, daughter of Lord
Scales, and on the death of that nobleman, in 1462, he
succeeded to the title.

His mother, the duchess of Bedford, and mother of the
queen, died in 1472, and in February 1473 he was made one
of the guardians and governors to his nephew, Prince Edward,
then three years old. But the story runs that his present
prosperity did not cause him to forget the ' tyme of grete
tribulacion and adversities ' by which it had been reached,
and in the summer of this year he went by sea to the jubilee
and pardon at Santiago de Compostella. On this voyage,
unlike the pilgrims we are told about in the ballad on sea-
sickness already quoted, he beguiled the time by reading
in a French translation the Dictes and /Sayings of the Philo-
sophers. He declares that he found this book ' a glorious

304 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

fair myrrour to all good Christen people to behold and
understonde.' So impressed was he by the book that after-
wards he translated it ' into right good and fayr Englyssh ' ;
and in 1477, for ' the noble and puissant lord Lord Antone
Erie of Ryvyers,' it was revised and published by William
Caxton the first book printed in England.

His visit to Compostella was saddened by the death of his
wife, September 1, 1473. Otherwise all went well. That
he obtained all the advantages of the Jubilee may be taken
for granted. For one thing, it inspired him to further study
and devotion. He indulged more and more in literary
occupations, and became ' one of the purest writers of
English prose of his time.' In the autumn of 1475 he went
on a pilgrimage to Rome. At this time Pope Sixtus iv.
conferred on him the title of ' Defender and Director of the
Siege Apostolic for the Pope in England.' He wrote several
treatises and poems which have been lost to sight. The
political conditions must have tried him exceedingly. Storm
was coming on fast. He is now described as one who
' conceiveth well the mutability and the unstableness of
this life.'

At last the storm broke. Edward TV. died April 9, 1483,
leaving two sons, Edward and Richard. The older boy
was twelve years of age ; and most people knew of the
ambition and unscrupulousness of his uncle Richard, duke
of Gloucester. Earl Rivers, guardian with Gloucester of
the princes, advised the queen, his sister :

' Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother,
Of the young prince your son : send straight for him ;
Let him be crown'd ; in him your comfort lives.
Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave,
And plant your joys in living Edward's throne.'

She acted promptly, and Edward v. began his short reign of
three months, with Gloucester as Lord Protector. Before
many days, Earl Rivers was arrested by order of the Lord
Protector, and confined in Pontefract. The queen knew
well what it meant :

' I see the ruin of my house !
The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind.'

And on June 25, within three months of the death of
Edward iv., Rivers and his nephew Richard Grey, the new

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 305

little king's half-brother, were put to death. Before he died
Earl Rivers prayed :

' And for my sister and her princely sons,
Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.'

Again not many days, and the young princes perished in
the Tower. Two years later came Bosworth Field, and the
crown of England was found hanging on a hawthorn bush,
and given to Henry, Earl of Richmond, first of the Tudor
kings, who placed it on his own head.

Of the noble and gentle men of England * untimely
smother'd in their dusky graves ' at the command of
Richard m., none was nobler or more accomplished than
Rivers. ' The gentle Rivers,' his sister, the queen, affection-
ately called him as Commines styled him, c un tres-gentil
chevalier'; and I know few incidents more delightfully
domestic, or more warmly inspired by fondest love, than
that incident sketched by the little brother of the boy-king
to his grandmother :

' Grandam, one night, as we did sit at supper,
My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow
More than my brother : " Ay," quoth my uncle Gloucester,
" Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace " :
And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast,
Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.'

Nor can a sacred memory have a nobler eulogy than that
pronounced on Earl Rivers by his friend William Caxton,
who, after he had recorded the earl's devotion to works of
piety, his saintliness which outshone even his wisdom as a
statesman and his skill as a scholar, says, the earl being still
in life : ' It seemeth that he conceiveth wel the mutabilite
and the unstableness of this present lyf , and that he desireth
with a greet zele and spirituell love our goostlye help and
perpetual salvacion, and that we shal abhorre and utterly
forsake thabominable and dampnable synnes which com-
munely be now a dayes. ' And so Sir Thomas More described
him, ' a right honourable man, as valiant of hand as politic
in counsel.'

By the way, whoever wrote the ' ghost scene ' in Richard
III., he came near unsaying much that had been said in
favour of Earl Rivers, when, after the style of ' mine Ancient

306 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Pistol/ he made him address the king on the eve of the battle
of Bosworth :

' Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow !
Rivers, that died at Pomfret ! despair, and die ! '

Anthony Woodville was not the only member of his family
who had to do with Spain. About the time of his death, or
soon after, his brother Edward went abroad to take part
in the campaign which Ferdinand and Isabella had begun
to drive the Mahommedans out of Granada, the last bit of
Spain in foreign hands. I do not know that Sir Edward
Woodville, who in the Paston Letters is erroneously called
Lord Woodville, had anything to do with St. James of Com-
ppstella, though he may have done as most Englishmen did
who had the chance and made his offerings there ; but he
is in himself so interesting, and. he received such favour from
their Catholic majesties, who, in spite of their many exploits,
did not forget Santiago, that I cannot pass him by.

He first appears at court about the year 1486. ' There
came from England,' says Pietro Martire, an Italian scholar,
who probably the very next year attached himself to the
Spanish court, and afterwards wrote the narrative of the
war in his Opus Epistolarum, ' There came from England a
cavalier, young, wealthy, and high-born. He was allied to
the blood-royal of England. He was attended by a beautiful
train of household troops, three hundred in number, armed
after the fashion of their land with long-bow and battle-axe.'
Some time in 1486, in the camp before Moclin, Ferdinand
and Isabella met for conference, and at this conference the
English Lord Scales, or the Conde de Escalas, as the Spaniards
called him, appeared in magnificent style. Prescott thus
summarizes Bernaldez's description of him :

' He was followed by a retinue of five pages arrayed in
costly liveries. He was sheathed in complete mail, over
which was thrown a French surcoat of dark silk brocade.
A buckler was attached by golden clasps to his arm, and on
his head he wore a white French hat with plumes. The
caparisons of his steed were azure silk, lined with violet
and sprinkled over with stars of gold, and swept the ground,
as he managed his fiery courser with an easy horsemanship
that excited general admiration.'

The English knight distinguished himself at the siege of
Loja, a key position held by the Moors in a deep valley which
led from Castile into Granada, very beautiful in itself, and so

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 307

set in the midst of frowning mountains that it was given the
name of ' The Flower among the Thorns.' The place made
stubborn resistance, but surrendered May 28, 1486. In the
course of an attack, the Conde de Escalas, finding the scope
for cavalry action too restricted for his taste, dismounted
and led his men to an assault on a promising part of the walls.
He was already mounting a ladder, when a stone well aimed
from above caught him full on the face, hurling him to the
ground, and he was with difficulty extricated and carried to
his tent. For some time he lay senseless. Soon it was
discovered that the blow had deprived him of two of his
front teeth, a loss, as Prescott remarks, likely to disturb the
equanimity of a cavalier of fashion however courageous.

Nevertheless the Conde de Escalas rose to the occasion.
He was much appreciated by the king and queen, which
appreciation was by no means lessened by accounts of his
daring, and during his convalescence, as a mark of their
favour and sympathy, they came to see him. They condoled
with him on what he had suffered. He replied cheerfully :
* It is little to lose a few teeth in the service of Him who has
given me all ' ; and rather facetiously he went on to say :
' God who hath made this building, my body, hath but
opened a window that He may the more clearly see what
passes within.'

The sovereigns were pleased with this response. The
brave soldier recovered from his wound. He was rewarded
for his help and valorous deeds by rich gifts, and not long
afterwards he departed to his own country. But he could
not live a quiet life. He was killed at the battle of St. Aubin
du Cormier, July 28, 1488. After all, there were many men
like him : rich, noble, vain, ambitious, brave. They were
all religious after the fashion of their class and times, and
apparently without any consciousness of inconsistency could
bend the knee in devotion to God, and also draw the sword
in thirsty passion and venture into orgies best left un-
described. Once in a while from among them came a
penitent, like Raymond Lull, for instance, who forsaking
all else clung to the life that rose to saintship.

My chapter is long, and yet I cannot end it at this point.
I have allowed the Spanish knight to lead me on to English
saint, to English yeoman, and to English courtier ; and the
courtier has brought me to two of the most illustrious per-
sonages that had to do with Santiago. It is not fitting that
I should pass them by.

308 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

All the world knows of Ferdinand of Aragon, the husband
of Isabella of Castile, and of Isabella the friend and pro-
tector of Christopher Columbus. Not only by 1492 had
their Catholic majesties, as Pope Alexander vi. two years
later styled them, united Spain as closely as it has ever been
united, but in that year the Genoese navigator discovered
the highway by which Spain should fetch the gold that
would make her the richest and most powerful country in
Europe.

Of the two sovereigns, Isabella is to most people the more
interesting. She easily ranks among the world's greatest
women. Her purity of life and exactitude of decorum led
her to lift up a debased and degraded court into being ' the
nursery of virtue and of generous ambition,' and to strive
unceasingly for a reformation of manners and morals among
the clergy. ' Spain undoubtedly owed to Isabella's clear
intellect, resolute energy, and unselfish patriotism much of
that greatness which for the first time it acquired under
"the Catholic sovereigns." ' In piety she attained heights
of devotion and sacrifice equal to the most spiritually minded
of her contemporaries ; her religious convictions were
strong enough to satisfy the most exacting of Dominicans.
Her very sincerity and zeal involved her in a severity of
conduct and errors of state and ecclesiastical policy which
led her far away from the spirit of a Raymond Lull ; indeed
brought her under the domination of Tomas Torquemada,
who stands out in history as the personification of intoler-
ance, despotism, bigotry, and cruelty. At his persuasion
she allowed the Inquisition to be organized and vivified as it
had not been for the two centuries since its establishment
in Spain. Early in her reign the 'Dogs of the Lord,' the
Domini canes, as the Dominicans were called, overran the
country. During the eighteen years that Torquemada held
the office of Inquisitor-General, it is said that he burned
two thousand heretics, and so severe did the ' Holy Office '
become that both the Pope and the sovereigns had to inter-
fere. The expulsion of the Jews was carried out under the
supervision of this fanatical Confessor of the Faith. Over
three-quarters of a million of these people were driven out ;
and, notwithstanding the discovery of America, from that
time dates the commercial decay of Spain.

That Isabella should have had part in this lamentable out-
burst of a persecution that equalled, if it did not exceed, any
that pagan Caesar waged against the early Church, is indeed

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 309

pitiful, not only because it was unworthy of a woman and
a ruler, endowed as such with remarkable gifts, but also
because it was contrary to her character and disposition.
She was by nature gentle and merciful. In some striking
particulars she compares favourably with the English Eliza-
beth, the only queen, perhaps, with whom she may be com-
pared. Unfortunately she had accepted the principle which
wrought such deplorable damage and bitter disgrace in
Spanish ecclesiastical life, that zeal for the purity of the faith
could atone for every sin. Torquemada had indeed the spirit
of the Hebrew Elijah and the Galilean St. James, who would
bring down fire from heaven upon those who offended them ;
but Torquemada did not remember that that Lord in whose
name he wrought his wrong had rebuked that spirit, and had
condemned the sword as a means of grace. Isabella was
overpowered by the man to whom she had entrusted the
care of her conscience.

It has been reasonably conjectured that she was sought
in marriage by the brother of Edward iv. of England,
Richard, duke of Gloucester. Happily she married her
cousin Ferdinand of Aragon, a prince wanting in personal
attractions and little better than a politician, yet in morals
singularly pure, and in devotion to his wife most exemplary.
Seven or eight years passed, and Isabella went on pilgrim-
age, in 1477, to the tomb of St. Juan de Hortega, a well-
remembered monk and pilgrim of the early part of the
twelfth century, who being himself an only child, desired by
his parents for twenty years, ' was an especial mediator in
this need.' The Senor de Hortega, or Lord of the Nettles,
occupied a tomb which about twenty years earlier had been
opened for the purpose of translating his body into the neigh-
bouring church. Many nobles and prelates were present at
the time. But the tomb was no sooner opened than ' there
came out from it a multitude of white bees, with a sweet
odour ; they hummed about, they even stung the obstinate,
and the tomb was closed again.' Bees are curious creatures.
When the tomb of Childeric was opened, in 1653, more than
three hundred golden bees were discovered.

St. Juan, however, though he answered her prayer, was
not as kind to Isabella as he might have been. Her one
son, Don Juan, died in early youth; her eldest daughter,
Isabella, became queen of Portugal, and both she and her
infant son, Miguel, were soon cut off ; Joanna, her second
daughter, married a German prince, Philip the Handsome,

310 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

gave birth to two sons, one of whom became the Emperor
Charles v. and the other the Emperor Ferdinand i., and spent
the last fifty years of her life completely insane ; and
Catherine, the youngest daughter, had a most unhappy
English experience. In spite of her infirmities, Joanna was
sought in marriage by Henry vn. of England not, we may
suppose, because he loved her, but because he saw advan-
tages in an alliance with her. He failed to secure her, but
in the end his far-sightedness prevailed. In 1501 Catherine
was married to Arthur, Prince of Wales, but he died the next
year, and her father-in-law as soon as possible obtained a
papal dispensation to enable her to marry her deceased
husband's brother.

Though betrothed to the new Prince of Wales, she was
not married to him for six or seven years, owing to disputes
concerning her dowry. Her father tried to cheat the English
king of the marriage portion, and the English king tried to
extort from her father new conditions. Among other pro-
posals, Henry endeavoured to secure a marriage between
his daughter Mary and Ferdinand's grandson, Catherine's
nephew, afterwards Charles v. In the meantime Catherine
was kept in England, her unhappy condition apparently
disturbing no one but herself. In a letter to her father,
dated March 9, 1509, she describes the state of poverty to
which she was reduced, and declares the king's unkindness
impossible to be borne any longer. Seven weeks later the
king died, and within two months she and Henry vin. were
married. The coronation took place in another fortnight.
He was then eighteen years of age, and she twenty-four.
Some years of happy married life followed. Henry showed
himself an affectionate husband, till seventeen or eighteen
years later his conscience began to worry him. Of the six
children born within the first eight years only a girl survived.
Catherine's health became such that no more children could
be expected ; and England had never yet had a queen
regnant. This condition was generally ascribed to the curse
pronounced in Deuteronomy against incestuous marriages,
and then, as now, the irregularity of a marriage such as that
between Henry and Catherine was reprobated and con-
demned. The more people talked, the more troubled Henry's
conscience became. In June 1527 he informed his wife that
they had been living in mortal sin and must separate. In
his perturbation he appealed to the Pope for a dissolution of
the marriage. Such dissolutions of royal marriages were not

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 311

unknown. Indeed, this same Pope, Clement vn., a little
later annulled the marriage of James iv. of Scotland and
Henry's own sister Margaret. But Clement vn., under the
influence of the Emperor Charles v., Catherine's nephew, rather
than allow the king's petition, proposed as a solution of the
problem that Henry should be allowed two wives. Henry had
an illegitimate son whom he had created duke of Richmond
and given precedence over all the peers of England. To
meet the demand for a male heir to the throne, the Pope
looked not unfavourably on the project for marrying the
duke of Richmond to the Princess Mary, a brother to a
sister. This was worse than dissolving the marriage ; but
at that time Charles v. held the Pope in prison, and the Pope,
between the hammer and the anvil, could only do what the
emperor allowed. After all, the question turned on the
legality of the papal dispensation given for the marriage of
Henry to his brother's widow. In the end, the nation had
to choose between the Pope and the king. As it had always
done, it followed the king. England cast off the papal
jurisdiction, declared the Pope's dispensation ultra, vires and
the marriage null and void, and transferred Catherine's
jointure to the king's new wife, Anne Boleyn.

The Princess Mary, only survivor of Catherine's children,
was pronounced legitimate ; and later, not only became
queen regnant of England, the first England ever had, but
also married her mother's sister's grandson, Philip n., son
of the Emperor Charles v., and king of Spain. Charles n.
of England married Catherine Braganza, daughter of John
rv. of Portugal ; but since the marriage of Philip n. and Mary
Tudor, no marriage occurred between princes or princesses
of the English and Spanish royal houses, till in late years
the two peoples were made happy in the union of Alfonso
of Spain and Victoria of England, both of them lineal
descendants of John of Gaunt.

This digression may serve to illustrate the condition
religiously of England in the days when to the world began
another era an era as clearly divided from the preceding
age as the first era of Christianity was from the ages of
Greece and Rome. Religion was not deep in English hearts
when the people found it so easy to turn from Pope to king,
in a few years back again, and then again in a few years
return to the first change. Not that England was ever
strongly papal. She was Catholic, holding every doctrine
the Church held; honouring every custom, tradition, or

312 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

saint the Church honoured : but never quite satisfied with
the Church's political aspirations. When the change came,
she lost her own saints, and she cared nothing about other
countries' saints, not even for him of Compostella. But the
separation of Englishmen from continental Christendom did
not come from spiritual or moral causes. Perhaps in time
it would have so come. But in the storm-days of which I
have been speaking, had Catherine of Aragon had a son I
shall not say had Henry never seen Anne Boleyn there had
been no quarrel with Charles v. or break with Clement vn.

Isabella the Magnificent, not foreknowing the fate of her
children, had nothing against St. Juan the Nettle-Lord.
Some may blame him for the sad fate of Catherine, noble
daughter of noble mother, described, after all her bitter and
undeserved misfortunes, as ' more beloved by the islanders
than any queen that has ever reigned.' Of this, however,
Isabella knew nothing. She rebuilt the chapel of the saint
that had answered her prayers, and did other things to express
her gratitude. But she seems to have known the saints and
the sacred places all over the country. Her indefatigable
zeal led her everywhere. She loved the stories of the saints.
I can imagine her, let us say, in Saragossa, standing before
the Pillar of the Virgin a pillar like unto the shaft at
Santiago which held up the original altar of St. James.
The legend is doubtful which declares that the two com-
panions of the Apostle brought the pillar at Compostella
from Jerusalem ; but none can gainsay the story of the
pillar at Saragossa, which story gladdened Queen Isabella's
heart, as it has gladdened myriads of faithful souls through
the ages.

It so happened that one October day, A.D. 40, when St.
James was preaching the gospel in Spain, he fell asleep on
the site in Saragossa where the church of Nuestra Senora
del Pilar now stands. During his sleep the angels caught
up the Blessed Virgin, then still living in Palestine, and
transported her to Saragossa on a jasper pillar. She desired
the slumbering son of Zebedee to build a chapel on that
spot. The angels carried her back again, but left the pillar.
When St. James awoke, the pillar stood before him as an
evidence that his dream was true. The chapel was built,
and to it the Virgin often came. The pillar is still there,
and on the top of it, we are credibly informed, stands an
incense-blackened wooden image of the Blessed Virgin
draped in a heavily embroidered mantle. Near by are

OTHER SAINTS AND SINNERS 313 !

i

marble groups of the Virgin and angels, and of St. Jamesj
and Ms disciples. The chapel is fashioned after the style |
of the holy house at Loreto with a dome, and sculptures
and paintings on the walls. In the wall at the back of the
pillar is a hole, through which, standing outside, the devout j
may touch the sacred relic. j

With the taking of Granada and the fall of the Moorish !
power in Spain the complete triumph of the Catholic |
sovereigns, in the obtaining of which the English knight,
Sir Edward Woodville, had part

' Red gleam 'd the cross, and waned the crescent pale '

not only came the first outburst in Spain of the Renaissance,
but Compostella became more than ever the centre of the
religious enthusiasm of the country. Had Ferdinand and
Isabella foreseen the wealth the discovery of the new world
would bring to Spain, their gratitude would have been still
greater than it was for the downfall of .the Moor. In 1492
they manifested their thankfulness for the conquest of
Granada by freely attributing the success of their enterprise
to their national hero-saint, St. James, and by enacting,
the like of which other kings had done, a tribute of a bushel
of grain on every pair of oxen, horses, mules, and asses used
in agriculture throughout Spain. This was to be devoted
to Compostella as an annual thank-offering and used for
three purposes : the holding of commemoration services in
the cathedral, the building and repair expenses of the
cathedral, and the relief of the poor. Thus the king and
queen brought Compostella to the highest magnificence and
renown it has ever attained.

At this time pilgrims flocked in such multitudes that
Ferdinand and Isabella, * knowing how poor was the accom-
modation provided for pilgrims to Compostella, commanded
that a commodious inn should be constructed close to the
cathedral, where pious pilgrims might find shelter and the
sick be nursed.' Then was built one of the finest structures
in all Spain, of pure renaissance style, and furnished with
sculptures and decorations that the world cannot but
recognize as perfect in art. The noblest part is the principal
entrance. No better example of the form of architecture
adopted is to be found in Spain. There may be read :

' Magus Fernandus et grandis Helisabeth peregrinis : divi
Jacobi construi : Jussere anno salutis : M : D : I : opus :
inchoatorum decennio : absolufruno.'

314 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

i

The foundations of the Royal Hospital were laid in 1501,
and the building was ready for its first inmates ten years
later. In 1550, Molina writing of it says :

' I believe that this hospital is so well known in every
part of the world, that all I can say about it will be readily
credited. In the three large wards there are few days when
there are less than two hundred sick people, and the number
is much larger in Jubilee year. Yet every patient is treated
with as much care as if the hospital had been erected for his
particular benefit. The hospital is one of the great things
of the earth. Apart from its sumptuousness and the regal
grandeur of its architecture, it is a marvellous thing to feel
its size, the multitudes of its officials, the diligence and zeal
of the attendants, the cleanliness of the linen, the care taken
about the cooking, the perfect order of the routine, . . . the
assiduity of the doctors, ... in short, one may regard it as
a crowning glory of Christendom.'

And after all said and done, as doubtless Raymond Lull
would agree, and old Anthony Woodville, and Ferdinand
and Isabella, the best outcome of saintship is care for the
poor and sick, and sympathy for pilgrims, whether to earthly
shrine or to the celestial city pilgrims who would do what
they believe to be the will of God. In this respect Compostella
was not behind other holy places in Christendom ; and
undoubtedly St. James favoured rather the people who
reminded him of the multitudes that followed the Man of
Sorrows than the people who made the fashions of the world
and displayed the luxury and power of courts and cities.

CHAPTER XXII
OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS

IN this chapter, which brings me near the end of our study,
I purpose to speak chiefly of two English pilgrims who wrote
accounts of their respective visits to Compostella. Their
accounts afford much interesting information, and also
suggest the changes at that time subtly creeping into the
old modes of life and aspects of thought. As these narra-
tives have a restricted circulation, and may not be easily
obtained, I shall deal with them at some length ; and from
them, as far as I can, give the reader an adequate and clear
idea of the two men the one, Master William Way ; the
other, Doctor Andrew Boorde.

Next to nothing is known of Master William Way beyond
what he himself tells us in his Itineraries -a copy of which
was published by the Roxburghe Club in 1857, from the
original manuscript in the Bodleian Library at Oxford.
This manuscript is said to be a small quarto volume, very
legibly written, probably by the author himself, on vellum,
with rubricated letters, but not illuminated, and is in an
excellent state of preservation. As he died, in his seventieth
year, November 30, 1476, and made his last pilgrimage to
the Holy Land in his fifty-fifth year, 1462, he must have
finished his account of his wanderings some time between
those two dates. He also left two series of manuscript
sermons, but these have been lost sight of.

It would seem, then, that he was born about the year
1406, in the days when Henry iv. of Lancaster reigned in
England. Not so much earlier both Chaucer and Langland
had passed away. Seven years later Henry v. came to the
throne, and in his ninth year was fought the battle of
Agincourt. Way is said to have been a native of Devonshire
and a fellow of Exeter College, Oxford. Not so long after
the foundation of Eton College, by Henry vr. in 1442, he was
transferred to that institution, and later described himself as
' Willelmus Wey, sacre theologie baccularius, socius Collegii
Regalis Etone ' ' Collegii beatissime Marie et sancti Nicolai
Etone juxta Wyndesoram.' He was licensed by the king ' to

315

316 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

passe over the See on peregrinage ' ; and in 1456 he went to
Compostella, and to the Holy Land in 1458 and again in
1462. Some little time after his last journey he appears to
have resigned his fellowship at Eton, and to have made his
profession of the rule of St. Austin at the priory of Edyngdon,
in Wiltshire. To this house of the good men ' Boni
Homines vulgariter nuncupati ' he gave many of the relics
and curiosities which he brought back from Palestine on his
second pilgrimage there ; and thence fourteen years later,
as runs the Introduction to the Roxburghe reprint, ' in the
seventieth year of his age, he set out on his last pilgrimage
" consecratus ad modum peregrinorum," as on former
occasions, I cannot doubt.'

The Roxburghe reprint of which I have spoken is a rare
book and difficult to find. It is said that not a hundred
copies were published, and rarely does a copy appear in the
London market, and then only at a high price. The volume
contains the three itineraries, for the most part written in
Latin. Some instructions to travellers are given in English,
and these, quaint and helpful, mark the shrewd, practical
common-sense of the author. He advises the pilgrim going
by shi'p to buy a barrel for water to set in his room, and to be
careful of it ' for yf the galymen, 6ther pylgremys, may
come ther, to meny wyl tame and drynke therof, and stele
yowre watyr, whyche ye wold nat mysse oft tyme for yowre
wyne.' He repeats directions we have heard elsewhere :
' Also take with yow a lytel cawdren and fryyng pan,
dysches, platerrys, sawserys of tre, cuppys of glas, a grater
for brede, and such nessaryes.' And he finishes his counsel :
* Kepe all thes thynges afore wryt, and ye schal, wt the
grace of God, well spede yn yowre jorney to goo and com to
the plesure of God, and encrese of yowre blys, the whyche
Jhesus gravnt yow. Amen.'

Of the three itineraries, the one which came first in time
is last in order, which, however, says the Introduction, may
be owing to the carelessness of the binder rather than to
want of method in the writer. As we are not concerned in
Master Way's visits to the Holy Land, we turn to the section
containing the ' Peregrinacion ad sanctum Jacobum in
Ispannya.' On the flyleaf at the end of the manuscript is
a couplet which must evidently be ' the result of the long
experience and careful observation of a well-travelled man,
far surpassing as it does the wise caution of Horace " Quid,
de quoque viro, et cui dicas saepe videto." ' The writer of

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 317

the Roxburghe Introduction thinks it possible that this
couplet may have been by the author of the Itineraries :

* Si fore vis sapiens sex serva quae tibi mando :
Quid loqueris, et ubi, de quo, cui, quomodo, quando.

' Edyngden Abbey.'

These lines are frequently thus paraphrased :

' If you your lips would keep from slips,

Five things observe with care :
Of whom you speak, to whom you speak,
And how, and when, and where.'

Inspired by divine grace and protected by the king's
licence, our gentle and scholarly priest, as we imagine him
to be, ' our well-beloved clerc Maister William Wey,' as the
king styled him, then about fifty years of age, left Eton,
to journey to St. James of Compostella, on Easter even,
March 27, 1456. He moved leisurely across country, perhaps
stopping for visits here and there, possibly going to his
native place in Devonshire, for he did not reach Plymouth
till Friday, April 30. There he was detained till Monday,
May 17, when he set sail on the Mary White, a ship of
Plymouth. Five other vessels went out at the same time :
one of Portsmouth, another of Bristol, a third of Weymouth,
a fourth of Lymington, and a fifth called the Cargryne. The
little fleet met with no delay from sea or weather or free-
booter, for after sighting Cape Ortegal, the first point of the
Spanish country, and passing Cape Prior and the Cisargas
Islands, the Mary White reached Grwne in the afternoon of
Friday in the same week. By ' Grwne ' is to be understood
Corunna. In old times the English knew the port by
the name La Groyne, and it is said to be still so called by
British sailors. It is a memorable place. Here John of
Gaunt landed in 1386 to claim the throne of Castile in right of
his wife, the daughter of Pedro the Cruel. In 1554 Philip n.
embarked, here for England to marry Queen Mary ; and
in 1588 hence sailed the Invincible Armada to end the reign
of Elizabeth. Ten years later Drake burned the town to the
ground. Here, close by, January 16, 1809, died Sir John
Moore, immortalized not only by his bravery and success in
battle, but also by the poet's transcendent skill :

' Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame fresh and gory ;
We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,
But we left him alone with his glory.'

318 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Master Way, and presumably his companions, hastened
from Corunna. Forty miles lie between the port and
Compostella ; and the next day, the eve of the Feast of the
Holy Trinity, May 22, the pilgrims were within the walls of
St. James. He says no more of the journey by land than
of the voyage by water.

Of his religious purpose there can be no doubt, but Master
Way was also diligently bent on collecting information con-
cerning the ecclesiastical state of Spain. On his return to
England, such notes might be found useful. Among others
whom they would interest was the king himself : whose earnest-
ness of life and devotion to sacred things were beyond praise.
The wealth and dignity of the church at Compostella attracted
Master Way at the outset. The first thing he records sets
forth its magnificence. It has an archbishop one of the
three in Spain ; another being at Seville, and the third at
Toledo. He has jurisdiction over twelve bishoprics. Under
him at Compostella are seven cardinals : chief priests or
counsellors of the archbishop after the fashion, but not with
the renown, of the cardinals at Rome. Originally every
priest belonging permanently to a cathedral church was
called a cardinal, he being, as it were, so built into it that
the church depended on him as a door on its hinges. The
archbishops of Seville and Toledo had no such dignitaries,
but, by the way, at a later date, Lisbon was allowed a college
of them, and the archbishop held the rank of a patriarch, as
though he were a second pope. Besides the seven cardinals,
the dignity of the cathedral was maintained by a dean, a
precentor, five archdeacons, a schoolmaster, and two judges,
all bearing mitres and croziers. There were also eighty
canons and twenty-eight other holders of office. Way ascer-
tained the stipends this staff of clergy received ; and he was
satisfied that the ministrants of St. James were well taken
care of. The oblations made in St. James of Compostella,
Way says, were divided into three parts, of which one went
to the archbishop, another to the cardinals, canons, and other
dignitaries, and the third to the fabric of the church :
anticipating a similar arrangement made by Ferdinand and
Isabella.

The next day, Trinity Sunday, the pilgrims beheld proces-
sions and services in which was displayed the splendour of
Compostella, then approaching the height of its magnificence.
It chanced to be the year of jubilee and pardon, when
additional benefits were bestowed on pilgrims, and the town

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 319

was crowded with strangers. More than that, the young
King Henry rv. of Castile and Leon, the last of the House
of Trastamara, though worthless, impotent, and unfortunate
in every relation of life, yet in the third year of his reign
had met with some successes in his crusade in Granada
against the Moors, and in gratitude thereof had given a
golden crown to St. James, which crown this very day was
placed on the head of the image of the Apostle sitting in
the midst of the high altar. It is not clear that Master
Way saw this ceremony. But he mentions the robes and
other ornaments of the clergy. Everything was elaborately
adorned to the extreme. .In the procession before high mass
there were nine bishops and cardinals. It is probable that
had the archbishop of Compostella, Rodrigo de Luna, been
present, Master Way would have mentioned him.

Rodrigo de Luna belonged to the hot-blooded and high-
born race of which in the preceding generation came two
extraordinary men : Alvaro de Luna, the faithful and able
favourite of the gracious, cultured, and weak Juan n. of
Castile, and Pedro de Luna, better known as Pope Benedict
xm., a relative of Dona Maria de Luna, queen of Martin,
king of Sicily and heir of Aragon. Either of these men is
sufficient to break the continuity of a narrative. Both have
romance and adventure, and both stand out in history ; but
to the pontiff only may a diversion be made.

In this Pedro de Luna, with his exalted rank, vast learning,
renown as a lawyer, and austere integrity of life, were com-
bined extraordinary courage, untiring energy, and steadfast
purpose. When in 1375 Gregory xi. made him cardinal
deacon of St. Maria in Cosmedin, the pontiff humorously
and significantly charged him, ' See to it, Don Pedro, that
your moon is never eclipsed ! ' If diligence and purity go
for aught, he did his best to observe the admonition. Nine-
teen years later, in 1394, he was unanimously elected Pope
at Avignon the City of the Three Keys : the keys of
heaven, earth, and hell. The first Spaniard to attain to
that dignity, he soon met with the hostility of the French
and Italian prelates and princes. It was expected that he
would work for the reunion of the papacy : but satisfied
that of the two or three popes claiming authority he was
the one true and legitimate successor of St. Peter, he
maintained his position without faltering or flinching.
Trouble awaited him. His enthronement began a career

320 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

as exciting as it was romantic, and as ineffective as it was
brave and bold. His opponents, who outnumbered his
adherents, abused him, denounced and cursed him, declared
him deposed, excommunicated him ; but he yielded neither
jot not tittle. They played upon his name. The French
called him, ' Le Pappe de la Lune.' It was freely said that
the Church would never be united unless there were ' a total
eclipse of the moon.' One of the greatest preachers of the
age delivered a sermon ' on the phases of the Moon as
symbols of the life of Benedict xm. ' ! This preacher,
Master Vincent Ferrer by name, by the time he numbered
sixty-five years had preached six thousand sermons, each
three hours long. But not even he could move the will of
Pedro de Luna. Worse than all else, ' the man, de Luna,'
as some styled him, was charged with witchcraft and with
having learned the art of conjuring devils. It was said that
he slept with three volumes of magic under his head.

In defiance of the decree of deposition made by the Council
of Constance in 1417 the council which harried John Huss
to death the Pope stood firm. Small in stature and slight
in form, no age has produced a man more unchangeably
vigorous in body and mind than he. In his eighty-eighth
year, before the emperor and an assembly of princes, ambas-
sadors, and professors, he sought to vindicate his position in
a speech seven uninterrupted hours in length. He spoke in
Latin. It was a marvellous achievement. ' Not a sound
of impatience or weariness was heard in the hall,' says that
most delightful of novelists, Vincente Blasco Ibanez. ' Even
his bitterest enemies were forced to recognize the superiority
of this man, in intelligence, in force of personality, in character
and private virtues, over all the popes who had been his
competitors and over all the pedantic theologians and log-
rolling cardinals who had assailed him in the Councils.'

Benedict xm. loved the sea and sailors, and now that he
is well-nigh forgotten Ibanez has brought him back to life,
and given him a new soubriquet in that charming book,
The Pope of the Sea. There we may picture the brave old
man, still holding tenaciously the three keys of Avignon,
wandering from port to port, exercising his sacred functions,
the papal flag at his little ship's mast-head, and determination
burning in his heart.

He made his home at Peniscola, an impregnable fortress
on a bold, lofty point of rock, which was likened by the
Phoenicians of old to Tyre, and by modern navigators to

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 321

Mont Saint Michel in Brittany, about seven and twenty miles
north of Valencia. Here, as the aged pontiff imagined, the
real and living remnant of the Church fled even as all
humanity had fled to the ark to escape the deluge of Noah's
time. So Pefiiscola was called ' Noah's Ark.' In the church
at Peniscola lie some bodies of followers of St. James the
Great, who, according to tradition, were disembarked here,
perhaps when the remains of the Apostle were on their way
from Jerusalem to Compostella, but no one knows. Only,
it is pleasant to conjecture that in his last days the great
Spanish pontiff had some touch with the patron saint whom
he had venerated from childhood. And here, in 1422 or
1423, at the age of ninety-four, Pedro de Luna died. Five
or six years earlier, a preacher at Constance compared the
Church Victorious, as the Council fondly considered her, to
the woman mentioned in the Apocalypse as clothed in sun-
light, her feet resting on a moon and her head crowned
with twelve stars. ' The stars,' says Ibafiez, ' were the
sovereigns who had submitted to the Council ; the moon
was the Pope of Peniscola ! ' With the death of Benedict xm.
was practically concluded the Great Schism the Church's
' Babylonian Captivity,' as Petrarch styled that unhappy
period, which had vexed Christendom for so many years.

This happened thirty years and more before Master
William Way's visit to Compostella. Neither during his
pontificate, nor earlier when legate under Clement vn. in
Aragon and Castile, does Benedict xm. seem to have done
any great thing for Santiago. His kinsman Rodrigo de
Luna had been archbishop of Compostella about six years
at the time of Way's pilgrimage. Two years later, Rodrigo
was driven out of the archbishopric by the people of Compo-
stella because of an attempt upon the honour of a youthful
worshipper in the cathedral; and, again two years later,
in 1460, he died. Under the direction of one of his cardinal
assistants, his sarcophagus was built on the gospel side of
the high altar in the Church of Santa Maria de Iria, near
Padr6n, and his bust and an epitaph set thereon. In that
place they may be seen to this day.

Magnificent and impressive as services were in England,
Master Way had seen none to equal these Trinitytide services
in Compostella. Nor does he seem to have been more
surprised at the decorations and ceremonies than at the
numbers of Englishmen, both clerical and lay, in that city.

x

322 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Unfortunately he gives few details, but there is preserved
among the ancient documents of the cathedral, so Mrs.
Gallichan states, a description of the ritual ordered for the
pilgrims, as the service was carried out in the thirteenth
century by Archbishop Juan Arias. That observed in Way's
time probably differed little from it.

* The custodian of the altar and the priest, each standing
erect with a rod in his hand, marshalled the bands of pilgrims
in turn according to their nationality, and in their own
language. The pilgrims now grouped themselves around
the priest, whose duty it was to deliver to them the indul-
gences they had gained by their pilgrimages. Then, the
divine service having been participated in by them, they
therewith proceeded to lay their gifts before the altar, after
which it was their privilege to venerate the relics of the Santo
Apostle : first came the chain, and after the chain, the crown,
the hat, the staff, the knife and the stone.'

No one seems to have had any doubt of the genuineness
of these sacred articles. That they were at Compostella
and were seen by people who had been there satisfied the
most inquisitive minds, very much after the argument of
Smith the Weaver concerning the father of Jack Cade.
That Jack's father was stolen in infancy and became a
bricklayer when he came of age, did not disprove his and
the king's twinship. On the contrary, the evidence supported
the claim. 'Sir,' said Smith, 'he made a chimney in my
father's house, and the bricks are alive at this day to testify
it ; therefore deny it not.' What better proof can there be
that the Roman governor committed suicide on Mount
Pilatus than the existence of the lake ? If he did not drown
himself in it, why is it there ? Without the slightest hesita-
tion Master Way gives a list of the relics preserved at
Compostella and at Padr6n. In the church at the latter
place is the sacred tunic of our Lord Jesus Christ ; the tunic
of St. James would also have been there or at Compostella
had it not been stolen about the middle of the sixth century
and taken to Paris. At Santiago is the body of the blessed
James Zebedee, nephew of the Virgin Mary, totum et
integrum in spite, by the way, of the hand given to the
Empress Matilda long before. There are also the bodies of
other holy men. Master Way had seen them, and his
testimony could not be questioned.

Nor did he have any misgiving as to the efficacy of the
indulgences granted at Compostella to pilgrims. He care-

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 323

fully enumerates the advantages of going to Compostella,
and the conditions on which those advantages may be
obtained, very much after the style of a merchant who
publishes lists of goods and prices. As a theologian he
would lay more stress on the conditions, such as confession,
contrition, and amendment, than on the bare act of pilgrimage.
Merely going to Compostella without fulfilling those con-
ditions would avail nothing. A man might wear out his
shoes or sandals on the road, and even bruise 'and cut his
feet that he could scarcely walk, or, on the other hand, suffer
almost to death the horrors of the sea, but unless he repented
him of his sins and purposed living a new life he could not
profit by the pardon or the indulgence. It has been said
that the common people were diligently instructed in this
particular, and in some parishes they may have been, but
generally speaking such was not the case. Ample testimony
thereof may be found in Dr. G. R. Owst's Preaching in
Medieval England, an enlightening and convincing work.
It is fairly certain that people far below the rank of Master
Way, not so earnest and devout as he, uninstructed and
ignorant folk as the great majority of pilgrims were, thought
less of the conditions and more of the journey. Even in
these days, almsgiving and service to the sick and poor are
regarded as superior to repentance and faith or, at least,
if one does these works of charity one is sure of heaven and
happiness. So it may be taken as the rule, that pilgrims
considered the pilgrimage itself as the indispensable and
virtue-giving thing. Theologically, the qualifications of
repentance and faith made the pilgrimage unnecessary.
With them salvation was secure. So Master Way un-
doubtedly thought ; but the salvation would be all the
more enjoyable, and virtue all the easier, from a pilgrimage
to Santiago. About the same time, Dr. William Gascoigne,
the chancellor of Way's own university, spoke with scorn
of the popular opinion of pardons and indulgences, and one
would fain hope that Master Way had a like contempt.
' Sinners say in our days,' the chancellor declared, ' " I care
not how many or great sins I commit in God's sight ; for I
can get with all ease and despatch a plenary remission from
any penalty or guilt whatsoever through an absolution
granted me by the Pope, whose writing and grant I have
bought for fourpence or sixpence, or won at a game of ball." '
In these words comes an echo of Chaucer's Pardoner.
Fifty or sixty years earlier that ' propre man,' after he had

324 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

spoken of other gifts at his disposal, announced to his
fellow-pilgrims :

' But, sires, o word forgat I in my tale ;
I have relikes and pardoun in my male,
As f aire as any man in Engelond,
Whiche were me yeven by the popes hond.
If any of yow wole of devocioun
Offren, and han myn absolucioun,
Com forth anon, and kneleth heere adoun,
And mekely receyveth my pardoun.'

But there were advantages in pilgrimages, and our Bachelor
of Theology, who may be supposed to have knowledge of such
beyond most men, insisted upon them. He tells a story of
a Somersetshire man who came to him for counsel while he
was waiting at Plymouth for his ship to Compostella. The
man had made a vow to go to St. James, and he had got so
far on his way, but a great infirmity made it difficult for
him to carry out his vow. Would it be right for him to
return home ? He had rather die with his family than
pursue the j ourney .

' I advised him,' says Master Way, ' that he should go to
St. James, and that it would be better to die on the way
than at home because of the indulgences given to pilgrims
to St. James.' The man was not pleased with the counsel,
and he rushed back to his own country. But St. James had
his eye on him so we suppose and dragging himself along
one day twenty miles in great pain and sorrow, he came to
the inn where he should pass the night. All at once he was
made whole from the infirmity which he had suffered a long
time. Gratitude followed fast. He returned to Plymouth,
and made the voyage to Compostella. Master Way saw
him in the Friars' Church at Grwne on Corpus Christi Day.
There could be no doubt of the benefits of Santiago.

Having performed such duties and received such satis-
factions as were customary, above all else having won the
joy and inspiration which come from visiting a place
associated with a sacred or an honoured personality, Way
returned to Corunna, or, as he puts it, to the Port Grwne ;
and there he spent three days in further devotion. I do
not read that he went up to the Torre de Hercules, whence
may be had one of the most magnificent views in the world,
or that he cared anything for scenery. He had not come
to worship nature. On Wednesday he walked in procession
to the Church of Santa Maria del Campo ; and the next day,

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 325

Corpus Christi, he heard a sermon by an English Bachelor
of Theology, in the Church of the Minor Friars, on the text,
'Behold me, for thou hast called me.' At the close of the
sermon, the preacher made all the English present and
there seems to have been none in the church but English-
men say to St. James, presumably aloud and after him,
the words, * Ecce ego, vocasti, scilicet per Dei gratiam ut
hue venirem et locum tuum visitarem.'

Of the eighty-four ships in the harbour at Corunna,
thirty-two were ^English. Besides these English ships,
there were vessels from Ireland, Wales, and Normandy.
These numbers suggest the flow of pilgrims. Master Way
sailed for home May 28th, but was driven back into port
six days later. On June 5th his ship put out again, and,
having sighted the rocks of Cornwall, and passed Mount's Bay
and Lizard Head, reached Plymouth, Wednesday, June 9th.

We can imagine the return of Master Way to Eton : the
enthusiasm of his reception by his friends, the thankfulness
with which he thought of his escape from the perils of the
sea, and the delight with which he gave and the recipients
received the relics and curiosities he brought with him. He
had so much to talk about : his adventures, the ship, the
storms, the expanse of water, the gulls gleaming in the
sunshine, the mountains and rocks, the inns, the people,
the churches, the services and shrines, the hard bread and
the exhilarating wine, the miracles a thousand and one
things which people wished to know, and which made him
a man of valiant deeds and of endless information.

We can now well suppose that for a while his sermons had
an interest beyond measure. As a rule, in his day, and for
centuries before and centuries after his day, few people
cared to listen to sermons. This happened, perhaps still
happens, from no fault on the part of the preacher. If,
from sickness or overwork, or from lack of ability, he found
himself unable to prepare a sermon, he could buy or borrow
from some kind-hearted and more fortunate brother a
discourse suitable for the occasion. Indeed, sermon-outlines
were compiled and put on sale for inefficient parish priests,
as they are said to be even in this twentieth century. These
outlines were called ' Sleep-wells.' The parson could rest
easily Saturday night knowing that the Sunday sermon
was safely on hand. One wonders if any of Master
Way's neighbours ever sought to get from him one of his
' Sleep-wells ' !

326 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

But be the preacher ever so persevering, still more diligent
was the archdemon, Grisillus by name, in charge of the little
black devils who, under his supervision, ran around during
sermon-time to put people to sleep or to distract their
attention. Thick as flies on a summer day were these busy,
spiteful emissaries of evil. Once a preacher saw them with
his own eyes at work, flitting about the church, here thicken-
ing the wax in one man's ear that he became deaf as a
door-post, and there weighing down another man's eyelids
till he lost consciousness. Mean ' hissers ' they were called :
sometimes whistling so sweetly as to overpower the preacher's
voice, and sometimes making people chatter so loudly and
incessantly that the preacher could not hear himself. From
all these diabolical machinations against the increase of
sacred wisdom from the jangling, snoring, jesting, yawning,
petting of dogs or hawks, or bargaining about pigs or oxen,
then so common in church during divine service Master
Way was now freed. Unlike other preachers, who used
anecdotes and stories, familiar and threadbare from constant
use, he had tales of his own to give, legends for the truth
of which he could hold himself responsible, and incidents
out of his own experience alive and vivid. As Dr. Owst
tells us and possibly the same thing could be said of times
much later than the second half of the fifteenth century
* Now and again the reader pictures the awakened congre-
gation, eagerly leaning forward to catch some fragment of
a traveller's reminiscence, as he describes the perils of
Italian roads, a vineyard custom in France he has observed,
or some game which is " commoner in parts beyond the sea." '

Here, then, Master Way got some benefits from his
pilgrimage. He told his stories, as others told theirs, and
perhaps if we knew them we should mock at them ; but
both Master Way and his stories, as Dr. Owst reminds us
in speaking of like men and of like stories, ' came from an
age rich in the emotions and that " suggestive " power which
kindles men to do great things for the Faith, even if mountains
were never removed beyond the mountains of vice and
selfishness in human hearts.' The times were difficult, but
there were men, and not a few, as earnest and honest as in
any age, ancient or modern, who struggled bravely against
the evil and error. ' As the brightness of stars and candle
is better seen and shines more brightly by night than by
day,' says one of the preachers of that day, whom Dr. Owst
freely admires, 'so are they who dwell in the midst of a

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 327

perverse people.' This man, by name John Bromyard, did
his best to help his hearers. He not only vigorously
denounced sin, unflinchingly rebuked wrongdoers in high
places, and set forth lively and sound doctrine, but also, at
least on one occasion, described the altered habits of the pet
monkey in its old age ; and there were both preachers and
philosophers who fain would have found out ' what was the
cause that a flee that is so lityll a beeste hath sixe feet, and
a camell that is so grete a beeste hathe but f owre ? '

So Master Way had something to preach and to talk
about, and, human nature being such, the men and women
who listened to him thought more of this curious information
than of the piety which had been strengthened in him by
the pilgrimage, or of the advantages the pilgrimage had
given him against difficulties in the future life. Nor do I
suppose he ever tired or wore out. He had been to
Santiago, and both he and they who heard him believed in
Saint James.

In the Antiquaries'' Journal for July 1926, the organ of
the Society of Antiquaries of London, appears an article
by W. L. Hildburgh, F.S.A., entitled, ' A Datable English
Alabaster Altar-piece at Santiago de Compostela.' It gives
the story of an English parish priest who, in 1456, made
the pilgrimage to Santiago, and for an offering took with
him an English retable of wood with panels of carved
alabaster, which he gave to the cathedral containing the
shrine. To Mr. Hildburgh we are indebted for all that we
know either of the pilgrim or of his gift.

On the Corpus Christi Day in which Master Way heard
the sermon in Corunna by an English Bachelor of Sacred
Theology, had he not left Compostella he might have seen
his countryman presenting his offering. ' A document,'
Mr. Hildburgh says, ' written in Gallegan Spanish and still
in being, sets forth how there appeared before its writer,
with witnesses, at the high altar, on the 25th day of May,
1456, " a man who said that he was of the nation of the
Kingdom of England, by name called Johanes Gudguar,
rector of the church of Cheilinvvintour diocese," who, for
the service of God and reverence for the very holy Apostle
" Sebedeu," and for the benefit of his sins, gave to the
Compostelan church a retable of wood with figures of
alabaster, painted with gold and blue, setting forth the
history of the said holy Apostle.'

328 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

The expression ' Sebedeu,' referring to St. James's father
Zebedee, distinguishes him from St. James the Less. ' He
seems often to have been called " Santiago Zebedeo," or by
its Latin equivalent, in medieval Santiago.' The name
' Johanes Gudguar ' is reasonably conjectured to be the
Gallegan scribe's rendering of John Goodyear, and the name of
his parish and that of his diocese probably refer to Cheil, now
Chale, in the Isle of Wight, and in the diocese of Winchester.

John Goodyear laid down the condition that his gift was
not to be sold, pledged, exchanged, or given to any other
place or sanctuary whatsoever ; that it must not be with-
drawn from the church by the archbishop for his private
chapel, nor by any person ; and that it must be kept within
the body of the church. He had faith in ' the consciences
of the said Sejtior Archbishop and his successors and of the
present and future incumbents of the said holy church,' and
down to near the end of the nineteenth century the altar-
piece was kept in the Chapel of San Fernando. It is not
known whether it ever had a place at the high altar. It
is no longer in use, ' but carefully preserved in the Capilla
de las B/eliquias, together with the cathedral's holy relics
and its many objects made of precious materials ' among
these relics being a thorn from the Crown of Thorns, a small
bottle of the Virgin's milk, and the skull of St. James the
son of Alphaeus. Baedeker's Handbook states that 'these
treasures cannot be inspected closely and are sometimes not
shown at all.'

This altar-piece consists of five carved alabaster panels ;
and in these panels are presented scenes from the life of
St. James : the calling of St. James by the Sea of Galilee ;
our Lord's charge to the Apostles ; the preaching of St.
James ; the martyrdom of the Saint, by order of and before
Herod Agrippa ; and the translation of the body of the
saint from Joppa to Ma Flavia. In the article from which
my information is being taken, Mr. Hildburgh gives some
excellent photogravures of these panels, also of the altar-
piece as a whole, and part of the document quoted above
recording the gift of the altar-piece.

'The altar-piece,' Mr. Hildburgh says, 'has several
distinctions. It is the only one of the kind, of which I
have any record, upon which are shown scenes from the life
of St. James ; it is one of the few which we have reason to
believe were especially ordered from the English craftsmen
for placing in a specific situation abroad, instead of being

OF TWO ENGLISH PILGRIMS 329

one of a stock pattern ready prepared for delivery to any.,
customer who chanced to want an altar-piece ; and it is
one of the very few at the moment I recall no other to
whose making we can attach a known date, for we can
hardly doubt that it had not been long in existence when
the English priest took it to Santiago, most probably
by the short and convenient sea-route instead of by one
of the long routes overland which continental pilgrims
had to use.'

Some time about the year 1342, there came on pilgrimage
to Compostella a rich Swedish nobleman, Ulf Gudmarson,
and his wife, Bridget she destined to become the most
celebrated saint of the Scandinavian kingdoms. Her devout
and charitable life made her known far and wide ; and
having borne her husband eight children, she induced him
to pay a visit to the shrine of St. James. Already she was
recognized as a dreamer of dreams. Her visions and revela-
tions were collected and in course of time obtained much
popularity in Europe. One of her daughters, afterwards
canonized as St. Catherine of Sweden, had a like gift. When
at Compostella, Ulf and Bridget, he as intense a mystic as
she, agreed to separate : he to go into a Cistercian monastery,
and she to travel as an advocate of religion with her caravan
of offspring. Her chief purpose in life was to lift up the
moral tone of the age. She founded an Order known as the
Bridgittines, recognized in 1370 by Pope Urban v., and the
last twenty years of her life she spent either at Rome or on
pilgrimage. In 1373 she died, the first of a series of remark-
able women who affected religious and national events in
the end of the fourteenth century and beginning of the
fifteenth : as, for instance, Catherine her daughter, Catherine
of Siena, Colette, who sided with Pedro de Luna in his
troubles, and Joan of Arc, the most extraordinary of them
all. How much St. James of Compostella had to do with
the strengthening of the character of the worthy Bridget of
Sweden, I am not sure ; but she seems to have picked up
something at that apostolic shrine which helped her in her
really wonderful mission, and perhaps began this constella-
tion of visionaries and mystics, among the purest the Church
has ever known.

CHAPTER XXIII
ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM

THIS is all that is known of John Goodyear. Like William
Way he passes out of sight. Both men disappear in the
multitude which believed in the superiority and benefit
of the pilgrimage to Compostella, soon to be followed by
the Fastens and Sir Anthony Woodville ; and we leave the
times of Lancastrians and Yorkists to find in the days of
Henry vni. a traveller who bears the honour of having
written the first guide-book in English to continental
Europe. I do not think that Andrew Boorde, the last
pilgrim I shall consider at any length, had the devotion or
faith which possessed the men and women who discovered
and brought into the world's life St. James the Apostle,
but he had a scholarship superior to most of them, and,
I think, a gift of observation and discernment beyond
any of them.

But the times had changed. Not only had Columbus
discovered a new world beyond the Atlantic, but Europe
was fast becoming a new world itself. Another era had
begun, ' The paths trodden by the footsteps of ages,' as
James Anthony Froude reminds us, ' were broken up ; old
things were passing away, and the faith and the life of ten
centuries were dissolving like a dream. Chivalry was dying ;
the abbey and the castle were soon together to crumble into
ruins ; and all the forms, desires, beliefs, convictions of the
old world were passing away, never to return.' We must
bring in the historical perspective, and realize that, in
England for instance, men could not in Tudor times think of
things or see things as they had done in Plant agenet times.

For one thing, the State and the Church had brought
nearer to an end their long struggle ; and the Church was
slowly, but decidedly, passing under the domination of the
State. The king had become more to the nation than the
Pope had ever been. Perhaps in England he had always
been superior certainly since the days when William the
Conqueror held his own against Gregory vn. ; but the

330

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 331

superiority had never been allowed without dispute. Now
it was generally taken for granted, and men were getting
more and more to hold that the sword the Pope claimed as
his by divine right belonged inherently to the king. He
reigned not by permission of St. Peter, but by the grace of
God, more fully than had sometimes been thought of. The
love of country, too, had attained first rank among the
social virtues. Consolidation of the people, held together
by laws of their own making and governed by rulers one
with themselves, meant more than the supremacy of St.
Peter or the unity of the Church. The Pope still received
a respect begotten by time and tradition ; the king became
the personification of everything his subjects held sacred
and thought worth having. Macaulay long since pointed
out that a people sometimes found its freedom and happiness
safe and sure under forms of despotism. So Henry vm.
broke with Rome, and his people stood beside him. Mary
brought back the Pope, and the people agreed with her.
Elizabeth changed again, and the country changed too.
If the nation had been really and deeply religious, either
Papal or Protestant, it had not been possible for Mary to
burn Protestant or for Elizabeth to imprison and slaughter
Papist. Undoubtedly there were groups of earnest, sincere,
perhaps fanatical, partisans on both sides, but the over-
whelming mass of the people were indifferent to any positive
form of religion. At any rate, the nation determined to
obey the law, to carry out the will which the king and
parliament set forth for them, no matter what the conse-
quences. The Scripture commanded, 'Fear God, and honour
the king ' ; but it did not say anything about the Church
or the Pope.

And with this changed conception of the principle of
human government, and the determination to cast off
restraints which had become both irksome and injurious, much
else that had once been allowed and valued fell out of use.
I do not say that the change was altogether for the better.
It does not follow that a new age is sure to be superior to
the age it displaced. I only advance the fact, to put it in
this form, that William Way lived in a different world from
that in which Andrew Boorde passed his life, and consequently
thought of St. James from another point of view ; and so
with other questions, say, religious or scientific. In other
words, we are passing out of a period lasting, as it happened,
many centuries, in which St. James the Apostle held the

332 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

affection and reverence of Christendom, into a period during
which St. James faded into neglect and f orgetfulness.

'Andreas Perforatus est meum nomen,' said Andrew
Boorde. The name ' Borde ' is an early word for ' table,'
and ' Boorde ' one for joke, play, jest. He was himself a
merry-souled, light-hearted, kindly man, with a rich experi-
ence, ever willing to help others at the cost of much hardship
and danger to himself, glad to rejoice with those who did
rejoice, fond of the pleasures of the table, and possibly open
to faults of which the less said the better. No one has
dealt with him more intelligently or more indulgently than
Dr. F. J. Furnivall more lovingly, I might have said ; and
as one reads Dr. FurnivalPs notes and comments in his
edition of Boorde's Introduction, one feels that Andrew
Boorde was deserving of all the praise men gave him, and
may be forgiven for whatever weaknesses were charged
against him.

Among the many things for which he is famous two may
here be mentioned. In a letter to Thomas Cromwell, written
from Catalonia, in July, 1535, he says : ' I have sent to your
mastership the seeds of rhubarb, the which come out of
Barbary. In these parts it is had for a great treasure.
The seeds be sown in March, thin ; and when they be
rooted, they must be taken up and set every one of them
a foot or more from another, and well watered.' This was
two hundred years before that plant was generally cultivated
in England.

He is even more kindly remembered for his commendation
of a good draught of strong drink before one goes to bed
worthy advice to pilgrims especially, tired out with the day's
tramp. 'Ale for an Englishman,' he says, 'is a natural
drink ' ; even as beer ' is a natural drink for a Dutchman.'
As to wine : ' it doth actuate and doth quicken a man's
wits, it doth comfort the heart, it doth scour the liver.'
At the same time, Boorde condemns all excess : ' Intemper-
ance is a great vice, for it doth set everything out of order ;
and where there is no order there is horror.' Robert Burton,
the erudite author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, agreed with
Andrew Boorde in these observations, though he thought
that strong drinks should not be taken in the morning, lest
they hinder the work or journey of the day. Bather strong
drinks, says he, 'for such as have dry brains, are much
more proper at night.' The expression ' dry brains ' is
worthy of note.

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 333

The reference to rhubarb and strong drink not only
enables me to direct attention to two articles that concerned
travellers very closely in olden time and they who give
advice to pilgrims have much to say on such things but
also to bring to mind the Dyeta/ry of Helth, compiled by
'Andrew Boorde of Physycke doctour,' and dedicated by
him in 1542, ' To the armypotent Prynce and valyent lorde
Thomas Duke of Northfolke.' This work was edited in
1870 by Dr. F. J.' Furnivall for the Early English Text
Society, and was published by the Society with the celebrated
Introduction, of which I shall presently have much to say.

But first something should be said of Andrew Boorde
himself. He was born, before the year 1490, in the county
of Sussex, and was educated at Oxford, and while under
age, not being yet sixteen years old, against both law and
reason was received into the strictest order of monks, that
of the Carthusians. In due time he was ordained priest,
and about the year 1520, probably because a native of
Sussex, he was appointed suffragan bishop of Chichester,
subordinate to Robert Sherborn, bishop of that diocese
since 1508. By virtue of a forged papal Bull, in 1505
Sherborn had gotten himself consecrated to St. David's :
but his delinquency evidently turned not to his disadvantage.
In 1521, by a papal Bull, Andrew Boorde was dispensed from
the obligation of Chichester, and, probably never having been
made a bishop, he never filled any of its functions.

He was by no means happy in his monastic profession.
Rarely was a man less fitted for it. The rules, says Dr.
Furnivall, were of such extreme strictness and minuteness
as to behaviour, dress, meals, furniture of the cells, etc.
telling the monks how to walk, eat, drink, look, and hardly
to talk, that they must have nearly worried the life out
of a man like Boorde. The isolation must have been next
to unbearable. A writer in the thirteenth century doubted
if God was much delighted with such restrictions. ' This I
well know, that if I was myself in Paradise, and alone there,
I should not wish to remain in it.' Not only, says this
observer, Guyot de Provins by name, is a solitary man
always subject to bad temper, ' but what I particularly
dislike in the Carthusians is, that they are murderers of their
sick. If these require any little extraordinary nourishment,
it is peremptorily refused. I do not like religious persons
who have no pity ; the very quality which, I think, they
especially ought to have.'

334 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

So likewise thought Andrew Boorde. He was by nature
born to be a physician ; and to see men die without an
attempt to alleviate their sufferings or to save their lives
was to him abhorrent. His health began to give way under
the confinement. He appealed to the authorities for release
from his vows : ' I am nott able/ he said, ' to byd the rugor-
osite off your religion.' At last, about the year 1528, after
some twenty years of vegetarianism and fasting with the
Carthusians, Andrew got a dispensation, graciously given
by the Master and Chapter of the Grande Chartreux. He
seems to have parted from his brethren without the slightest
ill feeling. The truth is, he said to his fellow-Carthusians,
I was dispensed with the religion, considering I cannot, and
never could, live solitary, and I amongst you intrussed in a
close air might never have my health.

Boorde was now nearly forty years of age, and he at once
began the study of medicine. It is not necessary that we
should go abroad with him. He made several journeys on
the Continent from university to university, ' for to have
the notion and practice of physic in divers regions and
countries.' He must have been a diligent student, a close
observer, and a delightful companion. His witticisms are
said to have been on a par with his medical skill, and were
widely repeated. Various collections of jests are attributed
to him ; but that his buffoonery gave rise to the epithet
* Merry-andrew ' is by the best authorities declared to be
without evidence or intrinsic probability ; though' no less
an antiquary than Thomas Hearne says that he went round
like a quack doctor to country fairs, and thereby was allotted
the epithet.

A good illustration of his humour may be seen in his pro-
posed remedy for the cure of idleness in young people :

' There is nothing so good for the " fever lurden " as is
Vnguentum baclinum, that is to say, Take me a stick or
wand of a yard of length and more, and let it be as great
as a mail's finger, and with it anoint the back and the shoulders
well, morning and evening, and do this twenty-one days ;
and if this fever will not be holpen in that time, let them
beware of wagging in the gallows ; and whiles they do take
their medicine, put no lubberwort into their potage, and
beware of knavery about their heart ; and if this will not
help, send them to Newgate, for if you will not, they will
bring themselves thither at length.'

At the same time he won respect for his skill in medicine.

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 335

He not only was retained, for many urgent causes, by Sir
Robert Drury, but the Duke of Norfolk sent for him, and,
' thankes be to God,' he set his ducal patient straight. The
duke was the head of all the Howards, the president of the
council, and the uncle of Anne Boleyn. By his means,
Boorde was allowed to wait on the king. He remained till
his death a close friend of Thomas Cromwell. His position
and popularity, deservedly gained, made people disregard
the rumours of his getting drunk while learning medicine at
Montpelier and, by the way, Boorde declared that ' of all
the places that ever I did come in, Montpelier is the noblest
university of the world for physicians and surgeons.' His
books maintained his reputation. He stood among the fore-
most of the skilled and best-liked men of his day ; and
therefore an object of envy to those who had evil concerning
him in their heart. In his old days, even as in his young
days, a charge was brought against him of a life freer than
became either priest or physician. Anthony Wood in his
Memoirs, says that it was Andrew Boorde's ' custom to
drink water three days in a week, to wear constantly a shirt
of hair, and every night to hang his shroud and socking or
burial-sheet at his bed's feet ' : nevertheless, they who
repudiated celibacy for the clergy got the best of him, and
at last, as Dr. Furnivall puts it, ' our lettered and widely-
travelled healer of others' bodies, our preacher to others'
souls, and reprover of others' vices, our hero sinned against
and sinning, lies in the Fleet prison, sick in body, yet whole
in mind.' The charge may not have been true : God alone
is the Judge. It is a painful business with which to wind
up the record of a useful life ; but men are men. And while
in the Meet prison, in April, 1549, when about sixty years
of age, Andrew Boorde died, some said having poisoned
himself to escape public shame.

But they who know the man and no one can know him
better than one who has perused the Introduction, which I
shall now describe will agree with Dr. Furnivall : ' In spite
of Boorde's sad slip at the end of his life, no one can read
his racy writings without admiring and liking the cheery,
frank, bright, helpful, and sensible fellow who penned them.'

Our author is credited with having compiled the earliest
continental guide-book in English, published about 1547,
under the title of The First Book of the Introduction of
Knowledge 'The whyche,' according to the title-page,
' dothe teache a man to speake parte of all maner of

336 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

languages, and to know the usage and fashion of all maner
of countreys. And for to know the moste parte of all
maner of coynes of money, the whych is currant in every
region. Made by Andrew Boorde, of Physycke doctor.
Dedycated to the right honourable- and gracious lady Mary
doughter of our souerayne Lorde kyng Henry the eyght.'
The dedication was dated from Montpelier, May 3, 1542,
and in it the author speaks of the Lady Mary's * bountyful
goodness,' and recapitulates the purpose of his book,
' trustyng that your grace will accept my good will and
dylygent labour in Chryste, who kepe your grace in health
and honour.'

The book consists of thirty-nine chapters treating of
nearly as many countries and of the ' naturall disposyoyon '
of the several peoples, and their money and speech. In
one of these chapters the writer speaks of the pains and
troubles with which he ' did go thorow and rounde about
Christendom, and oute of Christendome '

' Of noble England, of Ireland and of Wales,
And also of Scotland, I haue tolde som tales ;
And of other Llondes I haue shewed my mynd ;
He that wyl trauell, the truthe he shall fynd.'

He desires the reader not to be offended at his telling the
truth, and assures him that ' I do not wryte ony thynge of
a malycious nor of a peruerse mynde, nor of no euyll pretence,
but to manyfest thinges the whiche be openly knownen, and
the thinges that I dyd se in many regyons, cytyes, and
countryes, openly vsed.' He is also anxious to have men
know that, unlike Pope Paschal n. in the early years of the
twelfth century, he did not go about rebuking sins : ' wyth
the which matter I haue nothyng to do.' He plans only to
speak of such things as travellers may find it necessary to
know or to do wherever they go.

Nevertheless, at the beginning of each chapter he indicates
in verse the characteristic of the country he is about to
describe. The verse is a rude jingle, and represents the
country personified in a speaker : ' I am ' this or that. Thus,
I was born in Iceland, ' when I eat candle-ends I am at a
feast ' ; if I am a Fleming, I get as drunk as a rat ; if I
was born in Brabant, ' I do loue good Englysh beere,'

* Yet had I rather to be drowned in a beere barell
Than I wolde change the fashion of my olde apparel.'

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 337

And thus with each country : rather monotonously, each
being treated in the same way.

But no Englishman loved England more than he. He
quotes the Italian proverb : ' Anglia terra bona terra,
mala gens ' : but he adds, ' I say, as I doo know, the people
of England be as good as any people in any lande and
nacion that euer I haue trauayled in, yea, and much better
in many thynges, specially in maners and manhod. As for
the noble fartyle countrey of England, hath no regyon lyke
it ; for there is plentye of gold and silver.' He never tires
of praising ' the most regall realme of England ' the one
country in all the world where the money is only gold and
silver the one land to which all nations flow, which the
Jew or the Turk, ' or any other infidel,' must praise the
one kingdom situated in an angle of the world, ' hauing
no region in Chrystendom nor out, of Chrystendom equiua-
lent to it . ' But even England has its weakness. Englishmen
were fantastical in dress. They never knew what to wear
or what fashion to follow. Hence Boorde produces a wood-
cut of an Englishman standing naked, save for a hat and
long feather, and a loin-cloth, with a pair of shears in his
left hand and a piece of cloth over the other arm, and
underneath, the lines :

' I am an English man, and naked I stand here,
Musyng in my minde what rayment I shall were ;
For now I wyll were thys, and now I wyl were that ;
Now I wyl were I cannot tel what/

Of the several provinces or kingdoms in the Peninsula,
Boorde describes Catalonia, Aragon, Andalusia, Portugal,
Castile, Biscay, Navarre, and the part specially known as
Spain. He is rather severe in his observations : but not
more so than the English generally were said to be. He
evidently liked neither the country nor the people. The
great towns afford poor and evil fare and worse lodging.
' Hogges in many places shalbe vnder your f eete at the
table, and lice in your bed.' Many of the people doth go
bare-legged. Girls crop their crowns, and leave a rim like
the friars. The women have silver rings in their ears. The
priests keep tippling-houses, and they furnish the best fare.
He records the following curious custom, the like of which
he found in Wales :

' In all these countreys, yf any man, or woman, or chylde,
do dye : at theyr burying, and many other tymes after that

Y

338 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

they be buryed, they wyl make an exclamacyon saying,
" Why dydest thou dye ? Haddest not thou good freendes ?
Mightyst not thou haue had gold and syluer, & ryches and
good clothynge ? For why diddest thou die ? " crying and
clatryng many suche f olysh worde's ; and commonly euery
day they wyll bryng to church a cloth, or a pilo carpit, and
cast ouer the graue, and set ouer it, bread, wyne & candyl-
lyght ; and than they wyll pray, and make suche a f olyshe
exclamation, as I sayd afore, that al the churche shall rynge ;
this wyll they doe although theyr freendes dyed vij yere
before ; and thys f olysh vse is vsyd in Bisca, Castyle, Spayne,
Aragon & Nauerre.'

In the February of 1510-11, there was given at the English
court a pageantry or masque in which Spanish fashions and
pilgrims' costumes were displayed. In Hall's Chronicle will
be found a description of the occasion and the play. In
the procession, Hall says, ' Came in vj ladyes appareled in
garmentes of Crymosyn Satyn, embroudered and trauessed
with cloth of gold, cut in Pomegranettes and yokes, strynged
after the facion of Spaygne.' But every conception of
pilgrims was set at naught. Never did pilgrim appear in
such splendour and the very ' make-up ' shows that the
notion of pilgrimage had changed. ' Then came nexte the
Marques Dorset and syr Thomas Bulleyn, like two pilgrims
from sainct lames, in taberdes of blacke Veluet, with palmers
hattes on their helmettes, wyth long lacobs staues in their
handes, their horse trappers of blacke Veluet, their taberdes,
hattes, & trappers, set with scaloppe schelles of fyne golde,
and strippes of blacke Veluet, euery strip set with a scalop
shell; their seruauntes all in blacke Satyn, with scalop
shelles of gold in their breastes.'

Doctor Andrew Boorde saw no pilgrims arrayed in this
guise when he went to Compostella, the first time about the
year 1532, and again some years later. The dates can be
given only approximately ; nor can the two journeys always
be distinguished the one from the other. But what he
records as having seen is full of interest. I am afraid,
however, that he was moved to visit the shrine of St. James
by purposes other than religious not, I should say, unworthy
in themselves or entirely without some sense of piety, but
purposes differing widely from those which possessed pilgrims
three hundred years earlier. He simply drifted on the stream
of his times : pleasant memories, perhaps, of sacred days in
the old Carthusian monastery, dull but good ; and loyalty

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 339

through all changes and chances to the king and Thomas
Cromwell. Not an active faith in things spiritual, but faith
abounding in the new learning and in human nature.

On his way to Compostella he passed through Navarre.
' The people be rude and poore,' he says, ' and many theues,
and they dothe Hue in much pouerte and penury ; the
countrey is barayn, for it is ful of mountayns And wildernes ;
yet haue they much corne.' And he tells a story the like of
which appears in other legends of St. James, and which,
though I have already referred to it, I here transcribe as it
is written, except in breaking the narrative into paragraphs
for greater clearness. It should be read carefully.

' The chief e towne is Pampilona, and there is a nother
towne called saynt Domyngo, in the whyche towne there is
a churche, in the whyche is kept a whit cock and a hene.
And euery pilgreme that goeth or commyth that way to
saynct lames in Compostell, hath a whit feder to set on
hys hat.

* The cocke and the hen is kepte there for this intent :
There was a yonge man hanged in that towne that wolde
haue gone to saynct lames in Compostell ; he was hanged
vnistly ; for ther was a wenche the whych wolde haue had
hym to medyll with her carnally ; the yonge man refraynyng
from hyr dysyre, and the whenche repletyd with malice for
the sayd cause, of an euyll pretence conueyed a syluer peece
into the bottom of the yonge mans skrip.

' He, wyth his father & mother, & other pylgrems, going
forthe in theyr lurney, the sayde whenche raysed offycers
. of the towne to persew after the pylgryms, and toke them,
fyndynge the aforesayd peace in the younge mannes scryp :
Wherfore they brought to the towne the yong man ; and
[he] was condemned to be hanged, and was hanged vppon
a payre of galowes, Whosoeuer that is hanged by-yonde see,
shall neuer be cutte nor pulled downe, but shall hange styll
on the galowes or lebet.

'the father and the mother of the yonge manne, with
other of the pylgryms, went forthe in theyr pilgrymage.
And whan they returned -agayne, they went to the sayd
galows to pray for the yong mans soule.

' whan they dyd come to the place, The yonge man did
speke, & sayd " I am not ded ; God and his seruaunte
saynt lames hathe here preserued me a lyue. Therfor go
you to the iustis of the towne, & byd him come hyther and
let me down."

340 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

* vpon the which wordes they went to the Justice, he
syttyng at supper, hauyng in his dyshe two greate chykens ;
the one was a hen chik, and the other a cock chyk.

' the messengers shewyng him this wonder, & what he
should do, the iustice sayd to them, " This tale that you
haue shewed me is as treue as these two chekenes before
mee in thys dysshe doth stonde vp and crowe." & as sorie
as the wordes ware spoken, they stode in the platter, &
dyd crowe ; wher vpon the lustyce, wyth processyon, dyd
fetche in, a lyue from the galows, that sayd yong man. &
for a remembraunce of this stupendyouse thynges, the
prestes and other credyble persons shewed me that they do
kepe styl in a kaig in the churche a white cocke and a hen.'

I am not sure that Andrew Boorde thought it necessary
to believe this story literally as it was told. He may have
tried to do so, though if I understand the man I doubt if
he made the effort. Still, there were other miracles attri-
buted to St. James quite as wonderful, save possibly in the
one particular of the chickens. Vincent of Beauvais, an
encyclopaedic scholar of the thirteenth century, tells the
story of a youth who survived a suspension on the gallows
for thirty-six days. St. James had held him up and fed
him. Another story runs, that a young man felt the pinch
of poverty so severely that he could afford neither to go to
Compostella nor to get married. The devil appeared to
him in the likeness of St. James, and tempted him to commit
suicide. St. James saw the devils running away with the
poor fellow's soul. He followed them fast ; and it is pleasant
to learn from the legend that St. James, notwithstanding
his age when he died, and the experiences he had gone through
in the centuries since, was still ruddy and brown, and comely
and young. He induced the demons to attend a council of
saints, at which the Blessed Virgin was presiding. We are
told that she was of middle height, very fair to see, and
exceedingly sweet-looking. St. James argued the case before
her, and in the end he was allowed to take back the soul to
the body. The wounds from which the young man had
died were healed, but the scars remained. Hugh of Cluny,
with many others, saw and touched the scars. What can
be said more ? And Doctor Andrew Boorde evidently
thought there was nothing more to be said about, certainly
not against, the story that he told. He solemnly affirmed :
' I did se a cock and a hen ther in the churche, and do tell
the fable as it was tolde me, not of three or iiij parsons,

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 341

but of many.' He does not, however, give a hint as to the
supply of white feathers. Did this one pair of chickens
furnish sufficient feathers for the pilgrims all the year round 1
And their descendants, renewed some said every seven years,
for the centuries to follow ? I think that that is the most
important question in the whole story of San Domingo de
la Calzada.

Of the young man tempted by the devil to commit suicide
a more detailed and highly coloured account is given in his
autobiography by Guibert, abbot of Nogent-sous-Coucy
(1053-1124). It was told him, so he says, ' by a religious
and truly meek-spirited monk, whose name was Geoffrey.'
At one time this Geoffrey had been lord of the castle of
Sambre in Burgundy ; and the young man on whom the
miracle was wrought lived in the upper land adjoining his
own. The Book of St. James in the Acta Sanctorum for
July says that the young man's name was Gerald, that he
was a furrier, the support of his widowed mother, and that
he lived in a village in the diocese of Laon ; but the Golden
Legend states that he lived in the country of Lyons, and
that he was accustomed to go oft to St. James ' as Hugh
the abbot of Cluny witnesseth.' We need not trouble
ourselves about the tangle which the several narrators make
of the story. They all agree that the youth had not been
as good as he should have been. ' At long last regaining
his senses, he had in mind to go on pilgrimage to St. James
of Galicia.' Everybody knows of the subtlety of the devil.
In those days he appeared in several forms : as an old god,
in female guise, as a dog or whatever suited his purpose.
St. Gregory tells of a nun who ate a lettuce leaf that had a
devil on it. The devil did her damage, and then began to
cry : ' What have I done ? I sat upon a lettuce and she
came and bit me ! ' At the command of a holy man of
God, the devil left her. St. Bartholomew once had some
conversation with a demon that had assumed the form of a
pilgrim. It was a hopeless venture for the devil. * He fell
down into hell with a great bruit and howling ; and then
they sent for the pilgrim, and he was vanished and gone
and away, and they could not find him.'

So it was a mean trick the devil played on the young man.
But in the end the young man recovered not entirely, as
the unexpurgated versions of the story show ; but sufficiently
to continue his pilgrimage, and to rid himself of sins he would
never again commit. Abbot Guibert declares : ' Now the

342 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

old man who told me this, said he had the tale from one
who had seen the man that came back to life. ' Even though
this was one of the events ' unparalleled in our times,' as
Guibert observes, whereby I get a suspicion that he was
not so simple as he seems it must not be forgotten that it
happened in St. Hugh's lifetime (1049-1109), and that he
is spoken of as one of the witnesses. Somehow or other, I
feel that Andrew Boorde would have loved Abbot Guibert
could he have known him.

But a more wonderful thing happened to Andrew Boorde
at Compostella. There he was disillusioned of the principal
parts of the story of St. James. And when one recalls, as
we have done in these pages, the long series of events by
which the Apostle of Galilee was made the patron saint of
Galicia, the legends that came to light as time moved on,
the great men and the greater multitudes that were satisfied
with the evidences of the translation, the glorification, the
wonders, and the happy certainty which pervaded all
Christendom of the truth of Compostella, we feel as if a
structure that men had learned to love and venerate for
its beauty and antiquity had crumbled to pieces. We are
sorry especially for Andrew Boorde. He need not have let
his prejudices against Catherine of Aragon, or his desire to
please Cranmer and Cromwell, tempt him to rob Spain of
her greatest glory. If he felt that no good thing could
come out of Spain, and that his sovereign's conscience was
rightly troubled, he could have held his peace without hurt
to any one ; for nothing that he said changed the faith
of Christendom.

Perhaps he believed as long as he could believe: but
why did he turn to the spirit of his age and ask questions ?
Of course, the times had changed. The assurance of the
eleventh century had given place to the uncertainty of the
sixteenth. Listen to the unfortunate doctor, and know that
scepticism has begun in him its foul work.

' Take thys tale folowyng for a suerte.

' I dyd dwel in Compostell, as I did dwell in many partes
of the world, to se & to know the trewth of many thynges,
& I assure you that there is not one heare nor one bone of
saint lames in Spayne in Compostell, but only, as they say,
his stafe, and the chayne the whyche he was bounde wyth
all in prison, and the syckel or hooke, the whyche doth lye
vpon the mydell of the hyghe aulter, the whych (they sayd)
dyd saw and cutte of the head of saint lames the more,

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 343

for whome the confluence of pylgrims resorteth to the
said place.

' I, beynge longe there, and illudyd, was shreuen of an
auncyent doctor of dyuynite, the which was blear yed,
and, whether it was to haue my counsell in physycke or no,
I passe ouer, but I was shreuen of hym, and after my
absolucion he sayd to me, " I do maruaile greatly that our
nation, specially our clergy and they, and the cardynalles
of Compostell "

' (they be called " cardynalles " there, the whyche be
head prestes ; and there they haue a cardynall that is called
" cardinalis maior, " the great cardynal, and he but aprest, and
goeth lyke a prest, and not lyke the cardinalles of Rome,)

' " illude, mocke, and skorne, the people, to do Idolatry,
making ygorant people to worship the thyng that is not here.
We haue not one heare nor bone of saynct lames ; for saynct
lames the more, and saynct lames the lesse, sainct Bartilmew,
and sainct Philyp, saynt Symond and lude, saynt Barnarde
& sanct George, with dyuerse other saynctes, Carolus magnus
brought theym to Tolose, pretending to haue had al the
appostels bodies or bones to be congregated & brought
together into one place in saynt Seuerins church in Tolose,
a citie in Langawdocke." '

This ancient, blear-eyed doctor of divinity, by one fell
swoop, demolished a very fortress of legends and traditions
which had withstood the storms and attacks of many
centuries. Why he should have belittled the fame and
worth of the city in which he dwelt and exercised his office
is not told. He does not seem to have doubted the removal
of St. James and the other apostles from their original
resting-places. They had been brought from beyond the
seas, but not to Compostella. Charles the Great had for
them a nobler city. Archbishop Turpin died ignorant of
the wholesale gathering of the bodies of the Apostles by the
great king. Evidently the question had become a matter
of dispute ; and the attentive reader will now see the reason
why the supreme Pontiff every now and then issued his
edict declaring Compostella to be the true custodian of the
remains of St. James. Unfortunately Boorde had come
within the influence of men to whom the Pope's decisions
determined them in the opposite direction.

* Therefor,' Doctor Andrew continues, ' I did go to the
citie & vniuersite of Tolose, & there dwelt to knowe the
trueth ; & there it is known by olde autentych wryttinges

344 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

& scales, the premyses to be of treuth ; but thes words can
not be beleued of incipient persons, specially of someEnglyshe
men and Skotyshe men.'

Nothing could better suggest the kindly nature of Andrew
Boorde his devotion to his calling as a physician, and his
readiness to help others at the cost of hardship and danger
to himself than his journey from Orleans to Compostella with
some countrymen, on an occasion, I think, other than that
in which he lost his faith in St. James.

' whan I dyd dwell in the vniuersite of Orlyance, casually
going ouer the bredge into the towne, I dyd mete with ix
Englyshe and Skotyshe parsons goyng to saynt Compostell,
a pylgrymage to saynt lames. I, knowyng theyr pretence,
aduertysed them to returne home to England, saying that
" I had rather to goe v tymes out of England to Rome,
and so I had in dede, than ons to go from Orlyance to
Compostel " ; saying also that " if I had byn worthy to
be of the kyng of Englandes counsel, such parsons as wolde
take such iornes on them wythout his lycences, I wold set
them by the fete. And that I had rather they should dye
in England thorowe my industry, than they to kyll them
selfe by the way " : wyth other wordes I had to them of
exasperacyon.

* They, not regardying my wordes nor sayinges, sayd that
they wolde go forth in theyr iourney, and wolde dye by the
way rather than to returne home. I, hauynge pitie they
should be cast away, poynted them to my hostage, and went
to dispache my busines in the vniuersyte of Orliaunce.

' And after that I went wyth them in theyr iurney thorow
Fraunce, and so to Burdious & Byon ; & than we entred
into the baryn countrey of Byskay and Castyle, wher we
coulde get no meate for money ; yet wyth great honger we
dyd come to Compostell, where we had plentye of meate
and wyne ; but in the retornyng thorow Spayn, for all
the crafte of Physycke that I coulde do, they dyed, all by
eatynge of frutes and drynkynge of water, the whych I dyd
euer refrayne my selfe.'

This was a sad ending. But Boorde was always careful
about water. He advises you to wash your face only once
a week, if you want to clear it of spots. On other days
wipe it with a scarlet cloth, or with brown paper that is
soft. When on a journey the only things safe to drink are
ale or wine. Even in these days the guide-books generally
warn travellers against water.

ANDREW BOORDE, THE OTHER PILGRIM 345

This covers all that Boorde has to say about the pilgrimage
to Compostella ; and here we leave him. Dr. Furnivall
justly thinks him a character well worth knowing. Certainly
he helps one to picture the difficulties of the road. He is
himself a man ' at times of great seriousness and earnestness,
yet withal of a pleasant humour ; reproving his country-
men's vices, and ridiculing their follies ; exhorting them to
prepare for their latter end, and yet enliven their present
days by honest mirth.' They who understand him deem
him deserving of praise, and condone the faults which he
had in common with most men.

But he did not like Spain or the pilgrimage to St. James.

' I assure all the worlde,' says he, ' that I had rather goe
v times to Rome oute of England, than one to Compostel :
by water it is no pain, but by land it is the greatest iurney
that an Englyshman may go. and whan I returnyd, and
did come into Aquitany, I dyd kis the ground for ioy, sur-
rendring thankes to God that I was deliuered out of greate
daungers, as well from many theues, as from honger and
colde, and that I was come into a plentiful country ; for
Aquitany hath no felow for good wyne & bred.'

CHAPTER XXIV
THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO

THE cult of St. James and the prosperity of Compostella
were at their highest development during the reign of
Ferdinand and Isabella. The glory of the ages had con-
centrated itself in the magnificence of the closing years of
the fifteenth century. The taking of Granada and the
discovery of America were far from being the cause of the
decline, but they synchronize therewith, and mark the
coming of an age in which mighty men, such as Erasmus,
Luther, and Rabelais, should lead the way to the destruc-
tion of errors more formidable than the Moors had been to
Spain, and to the development of human thought and
enterprise which would make the finding of the Western
Main beneficial to humanity. The decline of Santiago was
but one of many changes due to the dying out of one
age and the dawn of another. The whole civilized world
was rebuilding and reforming itself, using old material
whenever possible, preserving whatever had proved itself
true as well as beautiful and had endeared itself to human
hearts and minds, but casting aside whatever had worn
itself out and bordered on decay and death.

Spain guarded herself against the inroads of new thought
and new practice, and with every means at her disposal
resisted changes which elsewhere had already happened.
The cult of St. James had not worn itself out ; but its
continuance depended largely on foreign sympathy and
support. Most of the pilgrims came from abroad, from
Germany, Scandinavia, England, France, and Italy. As the
sixteenth century moved on, the motive for pilgrimage
weakened and passed away. Without motive no one would
go to Compostella. Even when commercial enterprise came
in, traders soon found that they could carry on business
without the guise of religion.

The scepticism, then, which appears in Andrew Boorde's
references to Santiago of Compostella was by no means
peculiar to him. He was simply caught in the drift,

316

THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO 347

and the drift to unbelief had long been deepening and
broadening. As the individual Christian realized the right
and learned to think and inquire for himself, doubt
sprang up not only concerning the legends which had
gathered about a shrine such as that of Compostella, or
any other shrine in Christendom, but also in general on the
benefit of pilgrimages and the efficacy of saintly intercession.
We may be sure that some unbelief had existed in reference
to St. James from the very first, or there would not have
been so many miracles wrought or appeals made to support
the legends. When everybody assents, there is no neeid of
argument ; and should unbelief intrude itself, with most
people it was reduced easily to silence and stupor. More-
over, in cases of obstinacy, for centuries rare and extra-
ordinary, death became a speedy cure ; and the speedier
the cure, the shorter the sickness of the afflicted patient,
and the more sure the health of the community. After all,
unbelief came, not from the strangeness of the wonders
alleged, or from any inborn tendency of the human mind,
but from the Evil One who could not be contented in
heaven, and now found his pleasure in hindering good and
hastening evil. The masses of Christendom, both clerical
and lay, held that the devil himself was at the bottom of
the opposition, say, to the cult of St. James ; and as the
devil was the father of lies, doubt inspired by him should
not be trusted or indulged in. So, speaking generally, good
people everywhere fought the devil and clung to the Saint.
They thanked God for having given them legends and
miracles, and were not discouraged.

But by the middle of the fifteenth century this conviction
had lost much of its strength. More persistent and forceful
as time went on arose the question, Is the body of St. James
the Great really at Compostella ? To be sure, Ambrosio de
Morales answers the question decidedly in the affirmative.
He has no doubt whatever that St. James lies within the
shrine there. But Juan de Mariana, of the same century
and of quite as good repute, is not sure either of the visit
of St. James to Spain or of the genuineness of the body
said to be his. Mariana, however, does not care to make
trouble. ' It is,' he says, ' not expedient to disturb with
such disputes the devotion of the people, so firmly settled
as it is.'

The objection to pilgrimages, however, sprang up not so
much from intellectual or spiritual doubts,' for, in spite of

348 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

evidence or argument to the contrary, it is not difficult to
believe anything that one makes up one's mind to believe.
The time came when men did not wish to believe, not
because the subject of faith was untrue, but simply because
they had lost interest in the subject. To-day it is a matter
of indifference what the ancient pagans found at the end of
their pilgrimage to the shrine of Jupiter Tyrius at Gades,
or of Apollo at Delphi, or of Diana at Ephesus. So regard-
less are we of those deities, that we do not try either to
believe or to disbelieve. As concerning them, their miracles
or qualities, we do not care about the truth. In other
departments of life many things are true, but fail to excite
faith. So at length, a long length to be sure, pilgrimages
passed out of fashion. Here and there they were condemned
outspokenly and vigorously ; but even then not always
because of any error of doctrine or legend that may have
led to them. The objections far more frequently came from
their results or outcrop. The nature of the tree was made
known by its fruits rather than by any theories claimed
for it.

Thus it was alleged that pilgrimages gave encouragement
to laziness and wicked living. More than that, they
furthered the traffic in relics, and no abuse prevailed to so
enormous an extent or begat such gross imposition. Though
writing of times a century and a half later than those of
which we are just now thinking, Sir Walter Scott fairly
interpreted the popular feeling when in The, Abbot he tells
us, that at the country fair at Kinross, off Lochleven, among
other curiosities were exhibited ' cockle-shells which had
been brought from the shrine of St. James of Compostella.'
These shells were disposed of to devout folk at nearly as
high a price as antiquaries in Sir Walter's time were willing
to pay for baubles of similar intrinsic value. Thus the
journey to Compostella could be saved and pretence be
made of the achievement. Much earlier than this, people
had so bought and exhibited these shells. Long before the
times of Mary, Queen of Scots, the authorities had denounced
this imposture. Popes Alexander m., Gregory ix., and
Clement v. had granted to the archbishops of Compostella
a faculty to excommunicate all persons who should sell
these ' shelles of Galice ' to pilgrims anywhere but in that
city. So in TTie Monastery, Julian Avenel, failing to recog-
nize Henry Warden, a preacher of the new doctrine of the
lords of the congregation, exclaimed against his buckram

THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO 349

gown and long staff, and greeted him as perchance ' some
pilgrim with a budget of lies from St. James of Compostella.'
He bids him, ' Away with thee, with thy clouted coat, scrip,
and scallop-shell ! '

As we have said in former chapters, the cockle-shell,
which is abundant on the shores near Vigo and other ports
at which pilgrims used to disembark, had been long the
distinguishing badge of visitors to the shrine at Compostella.
The shell was worn on the cloak or hat, ' the scallop-shell
his cap did deck.' Thus in the ballad, ' The Friar of
Orders Gray,' the lady describes her lover as clad in * a
pilgrim's weedes ' :

' And how should I know your true love

From many an other one ?

O by his scallop shell and hat,

And by his sandal shoon.'

Nor may we here forget Sir Walter Raleigh's exquisite
lines :

' Give me my scallop-shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon,
My scrip of joy, immortal diet,
My bottle of salvation,
My gown of glory, hope's true gage,
And thus I '11 take my pilgrimage.'

The scallop-shell and other relics obtained at Compostella
had served a useful purpose. Devout people cherished
them. Many a pure, loving spirit interpreted them to his
heart's joy :

' Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer,
Travelleth towards the land of heaven.'

These sacred things had awakened emotions and stirred
desires which in themselves had made friends and neighbours
at home and far away think of the Apostle, of the wonders
done by faith in him, and of the duties involved in seeking
and securing his help. Even later than the sixteenth
century, when, for instance, England had fallen away, the
Spanish people still held to their ancient custom. A late
legend gave another interpretation to the purpose of the
Milky Way. It became the road trodden nightly by the
spectres of those who did not make the pilgrimage to St.
James's sepulchre while they were upon earth, which, so it
was said, all good Spaniards should do.

350 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

But the noblest aspirations live in peril of decay and death.
So here. Not, as I said just now, so much from the neglect
of doctrine as from the abuses of practice. Molina traces
the decline of the pilgrimage to Compostella to the ' damnable
doctrines of the accursed Luther,' and these doctrines, he
says, ' diminished the numbers of Germans and wealthy
English.' To some extent this is near the fact ; but far
more destructive were the tales and claims of pilgrims, and the
fraudulent dealings in relics and pardons. Had the practice
.kept pure, the change of doctrine would have had little effect.

It is scarcely necessary to attempt to prove the passing
away of the cult of St. James. One could as profitably
evince the setting of the sun. But as illustrating the fact,
I give a number of extracts from authorities near at hand.
They will add force to much that I have said, and perhaps
throw light on the whole subject.

Chaucer seems to have had little against pilgrimage itself.
He laughed at relics and pardons ; but he gave the world
the story of a pilgrimage which is as immortal as it is
exquisite, and without which literature would be sadly at
a loss. But Langland is outspoken in his dislike both for
the act and also for the people who performed it. He
regards the pilgrim perhaps we had better say the pro-
moter who moved the pilgrim to make the journey as
an impostor. For him he had neither respect nor pity.
Ignorance and selfishness, the love of money and despicable
ingenuity, led to his deceitfulness. He cared not an iota
for the souls of his trapped and deluded dupes. Langland
seems to have known by experience the wrongs that had
thus been done ; and his Piers Plowman is itself, like the
mediaeval Pelerinage de la Vie Hwmaine, or John Bunyan's
allegory, and after the fashion of the Faery Queen, the story
of a pilgrimage out of the darkness of one phase of life into
the light of another and a better phase.

In the fifth passus of The Vision of Piers Plowman, he tells
of the company which went out to seek truth. They met
a 'paynim in pilgrimes wise,' bearing about him all sorts
of articles indicating the holy sites which he had visited
' signes of Synay, and shelles of Galice, and many a crouche
[cross] on his cloke.' Some of the company asked him
whence he came. He had been in many places :

' Ye may se by my signes, That sitten on myn hatte,
That I have walked ful wide In weet and in drye,
And sought good seintes For my soules helthe.'

THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO 351

And yet when they asked him, ' Knowest thou a saint men
call Saint Truth ? Couldst thou show us the way to the
place where he dwelleth ? ' he could only reply, ' Nay, so
me God helpe ! '

' I seigh never palmere, With pyk ne with scrippe,
Asken after hym er Til now, in this place.'

But, as some one else says, ' Truth is not the sort of saint
that pilgrims go to seek,' and Piers Plowman therefore
undertakes to guide the company on such a pilgrimage as
should result in finding the desired Saint. Shall they who
seek surely find ?

It so happened that on the seventh day of August, 1407,
at the Castle of Saltwood a residence of the archbishops of
Canterbury of very ancient origin, then recently rebuilt, a
mile north of Hythe in Kent there was brought for
examination before Thomas Arundel, archbishop of Canter-
bury, a north of England priest named William Thorpe.
This was not the first time Thorpe had stood before the
archbishop. Ten years earlier, in 1397, he had been charged
with heresy, and the archbishop, driven by powerful
influences to put down as far as possible the Wycliffite or
Lollard movement, had sentenced him to imprisonment.
From this imprisonment Thorpe was freed by Robert
Braybrooke, bishop of London. Now came a second trial.
Thorpe had been preaching at Shrewsbury, and among
other things he had affirmed that men and women who go
on pilgrimage are accursed and made foolish, spending
their goods in waste. For this he was arrested, and sent to
Saltwood Castle.

The Lollards and their ' Poor Preachers ' were troublesome
and irritating people. In the then social divisions of England
they stood on the side of the husbandman and peasant, and
against barons, prelates, and princes. The clergy came in
for their most vehement denunciation, especially the friars,
who, lustful, unscrupulous, and accomplished in tricks, were
the more direct oppressors of the poor. The author of Piers
Plowman's Crede gives us a ' portrait of the fat friar with
his double chin shaking about as big as a goose's egg, and
the ploughman with his hood full of holes, his mittens made
of patches, and his poor wife going barefoot on the ice so
that her blood followed.' Other contemporary poets tell
the same tale. The Ploughman's Complaint, to quote
Principal Lindsay in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, ' paints

362 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

popes, cardinals, prelates, rectors, monks and friars, who
call themselves followers of Peter and keepers of the gates
of heaven and hell, and pale poverty-stricken people, cotless
and landless, who have to pay the fat clergy for spiritual
assistance, and asks if these are Peter's priests. " I trowe
Peter took no money, for no sinners that he sold." '

Flesh and blood found it hard to tolerate advocates of
opinions such as these. Possibly the charges may have
been exaggerated, grossly so, after the manner of controver-
sialists, and exceptional cases may have been taken for the
rule, but the most saintly of men, free as Nathaniel of
Galilee from all guile, do not like to be numbered among
the transgressors. They are apt to resent it. We are not
surprised therefore to find that Thomas Arundel was pro-
voked at Lollardy. It spoke so outrageously of dignitaries.
He does not seem to have been by nature resentful or cruel.
He had attained high rank, both as a prelate of the Church
and as Chancellor of England, not so much because of his
noble birth as for his abilities and disposition to justice.
But even mild and judicious men can be provoked to anger
and severity. Oxford had felt his heavy hand because of
the drift of the university to the doctrines of WyclifEe.

And there stood before him, for the second time, this
notorious Lollard, William Thorpe !

The archbishop was not in kindly humour. We can
imagine that the mere garb of the poor preacher excited
him, though Thorpe, a member of the university of Oxford,
was both a priest and a scholar. Nor do I suppose that the
chaplains and secretaries, and the officers and attendants of
the court, thought much of the archbishop's coarseness and
bad manners. ' The caitiff had condemned pilgrimages ! '
He deserved no better treatment.

The charges were made in proper form. This done, I
fancy I hear the archbishop's shout, ' Again ! ' Then, so
the record says, he exclaimed :

' Ungracious lousel 1 ' Worthless wretch ! ' Thou favour-
est no more truth than a hound ! '

No pilgrimages ? No saints ? No relics ?

Thorpe stated his position clearly and firmly, in remarkably
good language, and with respect :

* Examine,' he says, ' whosoever will, twenty of these
pilgrims, and he shall not find the men or women that know
surely a commandment of God, nor can say their Pater-
noster and Ave Maria, nor their Credo, readily in any manner

THE PASSING OP SANTIAGO 353

of language. The cause why that many men and women go
hither and thither now on pilgrimages, is more for the health
of their bodies than of their souls ; more to have riches and
prosperity of this world than to be enriched with virtues in
their souls ; more to have here worldly and fleshly friendship
than for to have friendship of God and of His saints in heaven. '

He contends, says the erudite author of Curiosities of
Popular Customs, that such persons as these, who spend
much money and time in seeking out and visiting the bones
or images of this or of that saint, do that which is in direct
disobedience to the commands of God, inasmuch as they
waste their goods partly upon innkeepers, many of whom
are women of profligate conduct, partly upon rich priests,
who already have more than they need.

' Also, sir,' he concludes, ' I know well that when divers
men and women will go thus after their own wills, and finding
out one pilgrimage, they will ordain with them [arrange with
one another] before to have with them both men and women
that can well sing wanton songs, and some other pilgrims
will have their bagpipes ; so that every town they come
through, what with the noise of their singing, and with the
sound of their piping, and with the jangling of their Canter-
bury bells, and with the barking out of dogs after them,
they make more noise than if the king came there away with
all his clarions and many other minstrels.'

The archbishop, determined at all risks to defend this
merriment, made reply and the reply, after all, is not
entirely without common sense :

' Lewd wasel ! ' he cried, ' thou seest not far enough into
this matter. I say to thee that it is right well done that
pilgrims have with them both singers and also pipers, that
when one of them that goeth barefoot striketh his toe upon
a stone and hurteth him sore, and maketh him to bleed, it is
well done that he or his fellows begin then a song, or else
take out of his bosom a bagpipe, for to drive away with
such mirth the hurt of his fellow. For with such solace the
travel and weariness of pilgrims is lightly and merrily
brought forth.'

William Thorpe was too brave and determined a preacher,
and had too widespread a reputation as a favourer of change
in church and in social life, to be allowed freedom. His end
is somewhat uncertain, but it is stated on fairly good authority
that he was burned at Saltwood in the same month of his trial,
August, 1407.

z

354 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Thus a spirit was abroad working against Compostella,
and other shrines, and against pilgrimages in general, per-
sistent and subtle, growing from generation to generation,
sometimes leading to death, perhaps discerned only and
estimated accurately by the few in any age who can read
the signs of the times. At last the laugh of Rabelais passed
over Christendom, gathering into its huge, boisterous mirth
the accumulations of derision, ribaldry, scorn, merriment,
and drollery. Little could stand before that laugh, and
that which did survive lived rather with brown leaves of
autumn than with green buds of spring, beautiful perhaps,
but in the near grip of winter. A laugh, and yet not
altogether a laugh : for thus, full of gravity and wisdom,
speaks Grangousier to some pilgrims, and beyond them to
all sorts of men :

' Go your ways, poor men, in the name of God the Creator !
to whom I pray to guide you perpetually, and henceforward
be not so ready to undertake these idle and unprofitable
journeys. Look to your families, labour every man in his
vocation, instruct your children, and live as the good Apostle
St. Paul directeth you : in doing whereof, God, His angels
and saints, will guard and protect you, and no evil or plague
at any time shall befall you.'

But no one more disturbed the faith of Western Europe
in the Saint of Galicia than did Erasmus. In one of his
Colloquies, entitled the * Religious Pilgrimage,' he represents
a man whom he names Ogygius as returning home from a
journey full of superstition. The man had paid a visit to
St. James at Compostella, his wife and mother-in-law having
obliged him to make a vow so to do. On getting near home,
he meets a friend, Menedemus by name, and the following
conversation occurs. I give it in full from the translation
made in the early part of the eighteenth century by the
lexicographer, N. Bailey. It is worth reading, both for
its quaint ideas and language, and also for the information
it conveys much of which I could not venture otherwise
to give.

MENEDEMUS AND OGYGIUS

Men. What Novelty is this ? Don't I see my old Neighbour
Ogygius, that no Body has set their Eyes on this six Months ?
There was a Report he was dead. It is he, or I 'm mightily
mistaken. I '11 go up to him, and give him his Welcome.
Welcome, Ogygius.

THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO 355

Ogy. And well met, Menedemus.

Men. From what Part of the World came you ? For here
was a melancholy Beport that you had taken a Voyage to the
Stygian Shades.

Ogy. Nay, I thank God, I never was better in all my Life,
than I have been ever since I saw you last.

Men. And may you live always to confute such vain Reports :
But what strange Dress is this ? It is all over set off with
Shells scollop'd, full of Images of Lead and Tin, and Chains of
Straw- Work, and the Cuffs are adorned with Snakes Eggs
instead of Bracelets.

Ogy. I have been to pay a visit to St. James at Compostella,
and after that to the famous Virgin on the other Side the
Water in England ; and this was rather a Revisit ; for I had
been to see her three Years before.

Men. What ! out of Curiosity, I suppose ?

Ogy. Nay, upon the Score of Religion.

Men. That Religion, I suppose, the Greek Tongue taught you.

Ogy. My Wife's Mother had bound herself by a Vow, that if
her Daughter should be delivered of a live Male Child, I should
go to present my Respects to St. James in Person, and thank
him for it.

Men. And did you salute the Saint only in your own and
your Mother-in-Law's Name ?

Ogy. Nay, in the Name of the whole Family.

Men. Truly I am persuaded your Family would have been
every Whit as well, if you had never complimented him at all.
But prithee, what Answer did he make you when you thanked
him ?

Ogy. None at all ; but upon tendring my Present, he seemed
to smile, and gave me a gentle Nod, with this same Scollop
Shell.

Men. But why does he rather give those than any
Thing else?

Ogy. Because he has plenty of them, the neighbouring Sea
furnishing him with them.

Men. gracious Saint, that is both a Midwife to Women
in Labour, and hospitable to Travellers too ! But what new
Fashion of making Vows is this, that one who does nothing
himself, shall make a Vow that another Man shall work ? Put
the Case that you should tie yourself up by a Vow that I
should fast twice a Week, if you should succeed in such and
such an Affair, do you think I 'd perform what you had vowed ?
Ogy. I believe you would not, altho' you had made the Vow
yourself : For you made a Joke of Fobbing the Saints off.
But it was my Mother-in-Law that made the Vow, and it was
my Duty to be obedient : You know the Temper of Women,
and also my own Interest lay at Stake.

356 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Men. If you had not performed the Vow, what Risque had
you run ?

Ogy. I don't believe the Saint could have laid an Action at
Law against me ; but he might for the future have stopp'd
his Ears at my Petitions, or slily have brought some Mischief or
other upon my Family : You know the Humour of great Persons.

Men. Prithee tell me, how does the good Man St. James do ?
and what was he doing ?

Ogy. Why truly, not so well by far as he used to be.

Men. What 's the Matter, is he grown old ?

Ogy. Trifler ! You know Saints never grow old. No, but
it is this new Opinion that has been spread abroad thro' the
World, is the Occasion, that he has not so many Visits made
to him as he used to have ; and those that do come, give him
a bare Salute, and either nothing at all, or little or nothing
else ; they say they can bestow their Money to better Purpose
upon those that want it.

Men. An impious Opinion.

Ogy. And this is the Cause, that this great Apostle, that
used to glitter with Gold and Jewels, now is brought to the very
Block that he is made of, and has scarce a Tallow Candle.

Men. If this be true, the rest of the Saints are in danger of
coming to the same Pass.

So far for Erasmus. Of Martin Luther much may be said,
but, positive and destructive as he was in many particulars,
in dealing with superstitions, as he termed them, he displayed
considerable inconsistency. Thus, for instance, he held that
' memorial pictures or those which bear testimony to the
faith, such as crucifixes and the images of the saints,' are
honest and praiseworthy, but the images venerated at
places of pilgrimage he execrated as ' utterly idolatrous and
mere shelters of the devil.' Curiously enough, both he and
his immediate followers outstripped the Middle Ages in the
stress they laid on the reality and the work of the devil.
Thus runs a passage in a sermon of one of his right-hand
men : ' The Papists have their own devils who work
supposed miracles on their behalf, for the wonders which
occur among them at the places of pilgrimage or elsewhere in
answer to their prayers are not real miracles but devil's make-
believe. In fact Satan frequently makes a person appear ill,
and, then, by releasing him from the spell, cures him again.'

It would seem, therefore, that more depended on the use
made of the practice or opinion than on the verity of such.
The Lutherans could invent and publish legends as freely
and aptly as their opponents. Here is a familiar illustra-

THE PASSING OP SANTIAGO 367

tion: 'Seven years before his death, it was reported of
Bellarmine, the great controversialist of that day, that " he
had died miserably and in despair," carried off on the back
of a fiery he-goat for hell ; and " even to this very day,"
so it was told during his lifetime, " Bellarmine may be
heard gruesomely howling in the wind, astride his flaming,
winged steed." '

But, for all that, Luther had tremendous influence.
Dean Hook in his Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury,
says: 'When Erasmus and Luther spoke, theirs was only
the voice of genius giving utterance to the pent-up feelings
of Christendom. To the call of Erasmus, preceding that of
Luther, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the leading
characters of England gave a cordial response.' The
influence of Luther in England, however, was far less
powerful. The English divines listened to him, but they
can scarcely be said to have trusted him. It so chanced
that they agreed with him in his opinions concerning pilgrim-
ages. Of such he had nothing favourable to say. He declared
that they were a creation of the monks, and enjoined by them
at the expense of the duties of a man's calling. They were
an easy way of getting out of disagreeable or difficult tasks.
A man could leave far behind, business, wife and children, all
the obligations of everyday life, and, under pretence of religion,
gad abroad with other like-minded wastrels to distant shrines.
This, however, was an abuse of the idea of pilgrimage, and
long before Luther's time had been condemned by earnest
and faithful preachers all over Christendom. It was not a
new teaching. But in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries,
the growth of the abuse, the doubt of the efficacy of the act,
the unscrupulous efforts to support a custom which to say
the least had degenerated, and the tendency to change the
old for the new, had given the teaching a strength and a
popularity it had never possessed. The strictures of Luther
were welcomed by those who agreed with him, no matter
how much otherwise they differed from him. Pilgrimage
did not fall between friend and foe, but friend and foe
united in opposition to its corrupt practices. ' A man
should perform the duties of his calling, and not neglect
them for the sake of prayer, or " out of the way practices "
such as pilgrimages.'

Though an opportunist, even when at Wittenberg he
nailed his Ninety-five Theses on the church door, or at
Wartburg he threw his ink-pot at the devil, Luther had a

358 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

sharp and heavy axe, and the axe was made of true and
trusty steel. The trees fell under his stroke ; and, dislike
him as men may, none can deny his rank among the powerful
leaders of a powerful age.

He was both iconoclastic and conservative, but it is
doubtful what purpose guided him in either direction,
whether always truth or sometimes policy. It is, however,
fairly evident that neither he nor the men who laboured
with him in the same work had the slightest desire to
establish freedom of thought. They would abolish the
ancient and time-worn doctrines and customs, but in their
stead they wrought industriously to forge new fetters in
catechisms and confessions of faith which should bind as
tightly as ever the minds of men. That they did not
favour pilgrimages, told against pilgrimages. None of them
had a word to say for St. James of Compostella ; and the Saint
after a thousand years of glory was left to shift for himself.

When men such as Erasmus found it possible to sum up
the objections which had been so long accumulating against
the cult of St. James, and to set them forth in words that
the world had to listen to, and would laugh over, it may be
said that the Spanish Apostle was in sorry case. Some
would say that he was as good as dead. Without being dead,
he was practically helpless. His friends, in their stupidity
and shortsightedness, had devitalized and exhausted him.

Again I remind the reader that it is not necessary to
suppose, because Erasmus denounced or ridiculed the evils
and abuses which pervaded the religious practices of his
times, that he denied or cast aside the doctrines or opinions
which at the outset occasioned such practices. Like his
friend Sir Thomas More, and many other earnest and con-
servative scholars who sought rather to cleanse and purify
the sanctuary than to pull down and rebuild it, he felt that
where practices led to corruption, and corruption overspread
the land, it was desirable to get rid of the practice. Take
the unmarried life, for instance. Celibacy is an ideal state
of life for the clergy, and even in the most immoral ages
was beyond doubt kept faithfully by many, perhaps by
most of them, yet, ensuing as it frequently did in deplorable
conditions, it were better left as an ideal till an age arrived
suitable to its practice, and human nature had so modified
itself as to make it safe. So far as we can see, it is a rule
for heaven and for angels, but not for earth or for men. It
may be taken for granted, therefore, as an illustration, that

THE PASSING OF SANTIAGO 359

men who would abolish evil, and yet not relinquish opinions
or customs which had in them both wisdom and truth, would
esteem celibacy without making it obligatory.

So with pilgrimage. They would correct its shortcomings,
and refrain from repudiating the act itself.

Moreover, it should not be forgotten that in the process
of disparaging persons or customs, exaggeration and mis-
representation have no insignificant part. We are not
obliged to take as fact all that was said against pilgrimages,
shrines, or saints. Even Edmund Spenser, heartily as he
approved of the Reformation as it shaped itself in the reign
of Elizabeth, regarding the particular doctrines which the
Church of England had rejected as articles of a ' diabolical
faith,' had no hesitation in denouncing the slanders and
untrue reports which had led to the destruction of so much
that in itself was helpful and true. The spirit of this evil-
speaking he represented under the figure of the ' Blatant
Beast,' and described the monster at some length in the last
canto of the fifth book of the Faery Queen. This is the
' dreadful fiend ' which, in the sixth book, Sir Calidore
pursues and puts to shame. Of all the good knights spoken
of by Spenser, Calidore is the noblest and best. He is pre-
eminently the knight of courtesy, and, as Professor Henry
Morley observed, his name describes his quality as a beautiful
gift. Perhaps I may venture to suggest that before the
reader accepts all that is said against St. James of Compo-
stella, or, let us enlarge the application and say, against
the times in which his cult began to weaken, he should
read the following stanzas from the twelfth canto of the
sixth book :

' . . . let us tell

Of Calidore ; who, seeking all this while
That monstrous Beast by final force to quell,
Through every place with restless pain and toil
Him follow'd by the trace of his outrageous spoil.

' Through all estates he found that he had past,
In which he many massacres had left,
And to the Clergy now was come at last ;
In which such spoil, such havoc, and such theft
He wrought, that thence all goodness he bereft,
That endless were to tell. The Elfin Knight,
Who now no place besides unsought had left,
At length into a monastere did light,
Where he him found despoiling all with main and might.

360 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

* Into thek cloisters now he broken had,
Through which the monks he chased here and there,
And them pursued into their dortours sad,
And searched all thek ceEs and secrets near ;
In which what filth and ordure did appear,
Were irksome to report ; yet that foul Beast,
Naught sparing them, the more did toss and tear
And ransack all their dens from most to least,
Regarding naught religion nor their holy heast.

' From thence into the sacred church he broke,
And robb'd the chancel, and the desks down threw,
And altars fouled, and blasphemy spoke,
And th' images, for all their goodly hue,
Did cast to ground, whilst none was them to rue ;
So all confounded and disorder'd there :
But, seeing Calidore, away he flew,
Knowing his fatal hand by former fear ;
But he him fast pursuing soon approached near.'

Calidore, overtaking and fiercely assailing the hideous
creature, forced the monster to turn round, and he looked
into his open, poison-foaming mouth, grisly grim, with its
iron teeth an enormous cavern, like the vast gateway into
Hades. And therein the knight saw the weapons of Slander.
If I quote these descriptive stanzas it is chiefly that I may
illustrate the tone and temper of the times in which an age
sought to bury its past, and evil, seizing its opportunity,
outraged the cherished beliefs of centuries.

* And therein were a thousand tongues empight
Of sundry kinds and sundry quality ;
Some were of dogs, that barked day and night ;
And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry ;
And some of bears, that groyn'd continually ;
And some of tigers, that did seem to gren
And snarl at all that ever passed by :
But most of them were tongues of mortal men,
Which spake reproachfully, not caring where or when.

' And them amongst were mingled here and there
The tongues of serpents, with three-forked stings,
That spat out poison, and gore-bloody gear,
At all that came within his ravenings ;
And spake licentious words and hateful things
Of good and bad alike, of low and high,
Ne kaisars spared he a whit nor kings ;
But either blotted them with infamy,
Or bit them with his baneful teeth of injury.'

CHAPTER XXV
THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT

BUT though. St. James of Compostella came near death's
door, it is not to be taken for granted that he died. That
is to say, the cult was some distance from being entirely
abandoned. Even in England, though pilgrimages fell into
desuetude, the holy Apostle was remembered in a crude
fashion by proverbs and customs. Londoners still begin
eating oysters on his day, July 25, and it is said that, ' He
who eats oysters on St. James's Day will never want money '
perhaps because only the wealthy can afford them on this
opening day. In some parts of the country, apple trees are
blessed on St. James's Day. In other localities we hear that
' Till St. James's Day be come and gone, you may have hops
or you may have none,' which no doubt has a meaning,
though it be not on the surface. So used to run the rhyme :

' July, to whom, with Dog-star in her train,
St. James gives oysters, and St. Swithin rain.'

Nor is it forgotten, at least by those familiar with the
antiquities of London, that on St. James's Day, in the year
1625, Queen Henrietta Maria, wife of Bang Charles I., walked
barefoot and in sackcloth through St. James's Park and Hyde
Park to the gallows at Tyburn, and there prayed for the souls
of the saints and martyrs, as she called them, who were
executed for their share in Gunpowder Plot. This act of
piety must have given food for thought to some of his
majesty's Anglican and Puritan subjects.

St. James's Park was once a swampy, desolate tract of
ground, on the outskirts of an extensive forest. In this
damp and secluded meadow was founded by the citizens of
London, it may have been in Norman times, a leper-house
which was known as St. James's Hospital sometimes the
Hospital of St. James de Cherryngge or Cherringam, that
is, of Charing. It is probable that the St. James here com-
memorated was the apostolic bishop of Jerusalem, and not
the Saint of Compostella ; but the English people generally

361

362 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

so confused the two disciples, and do so still, that we may
here leave the question undecided. The house provided
shelter for 'fourteen sisters, maidens that were leprous,
living chastely and honestly for divine service.' The sisters
in this Slough of Despond, as Jacob Larwood, in his Story
of London Parks, calls this lonely spot, were given the right
to the profits of an annual fair held from the Eve of St.
James's Day to the end of the sixth day after. The shops
in London were closed during this fair. The month in which
this fair was held would seem sufficient to decide which St.
James was the patron of the Leper Hospital. Later the
sisters were allowed fifty-six pounds a year, and still later
were given four hides of land, about 480 acres in all. Henry
VL granted its perpetual custody to Eton College, about the
time that William Way was a master there. Provision was
made elsewhere for the afflicted sisters. Then in 1532
Henry vm. compounded for it with Eton College, aiid,
demolishing the ancient buildings, erected on their site a
' magnificent and goodly manor-house.' Now ' St. James
in the Field ' is known the world over as St. James's Palace,
and gives its name to the court of the sovereigns of England.

Thus the English people preserved the name, to some
extent the memory, of the Apostle of whom their forefathers
thought much, and to whom they resorted for counsel,
healing, comfort, and the remission of sin. The Church of
St. James at Garlick Hythe, in Vintry Ward, was probably
dedicated to him of Compostella ; and there was a cell
belonging to the abbot of Garendon called ' St. James in
the Wall,' by Cripplegate. This cell or chapel was bought
from Bang Edward vi. by a devout merchant, who in 1577
endowed it for divine service.

Naturally St. James would be kept in mind more clearly
in Spain. Pilgrimages to his shrine are even now observed,
but not on the scale which anciently prevailed. After the
destruction of the Spanish Armada, it is not likely that any
visitors came from England ; but an Irish archbishop,, while
on pilgrimage, died there May 6, 1654, and on his tomb
in the cathedral may be read : ' D. Tomas Valois, Arzobispo
de Cashel en Irlanda.'' The king is still the Grand Master of
the Order of St. James, and it is doubtful if there be an
Order in Europe, excepting possibly that of the Garter, in
which membership is more highly appreciated. Nor has the
Apostle been deprived of his rank as Patron and Protector
of Spain. But both in numbers and in services, Compostella

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 363

is only a shadow of its former self. A few peasants from
Galicia and neighbouring provinces gather there from time
to time ; but rarely, if ever, do pilgrims in any considerable
numbers cross either mountain or sea from abroad.

In his Spanish Galicia, Mr. Aubrey Bell gives this interest-
ing description of the pilgrimage as it occurs at the present
day : ' On the morning of the pilgrimage they march in
procession four abreast through the magnificent Plaza del
Hospital, the balconies of which are hung with red and yellow,
to the cathedral, the men coming first and the band, then
the more numerous women. Three policemen lead the way
and the parish priests walk like officers at the side. The
city is shaken with the firing of shells; the bells of the
cathedral clash and peal. The mighty doors are open in
welcome, displaying the splendours of the Portico de la
Gloria. A verger with gorgeous magenta robe and silver
staff receives them, accompanied by the canons, at the top
of the steps and guides them into the cathedral. They enter
singing loudly, and the voices of row after row, as it enters
the dark aisle from the glowing sunshine, are drowned by
the notes of the organ. As one looks on their thin, white,
mystic faces one seems to understand the miracles.' Do not
forget this last weird impression !

Mr. Walter Wood in a chapter in his Corner of Spain,
concerning Compostella, which he aptly calls ' Spam's
Jerusalem ' (London, 1910), describes the celebration at
Compostella on the eve of St. James's Day, July 24, and, by
the way, he who would know that city to-day should read
carefully this most interesting book. I condense some of
its paragraphs. From early morn the people give them-
selves up to enjoyment and merriment : everybody in
holiday costume and with smiling face, bands marching
through the streets, clanging bells, crashing rockets, pro-
cessions of ' giants ' crudely representing the arrival of
pilgrims of old from all parts of the world, and games such
as the climbing of greasy poles and dancing to the Galiciari
bagpipes. Thus the day passes on from joy to joy and from
noise to noise, till in the darkness comes a brilliant display
of fireworks in front of the cathedral ; and bells and bands
and shouts and songs of the crowds unite in an outburst of
uncontrolled and tremendous confusion, sufficient, one would
think, to disturb the peace of the mighty dead, and perhaps,
on the other hand, to delight the soul of the apostolic
Son of Thunder.

364 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Early the next morning appears the great procession of
which Aubrey Bell speaks. During the services, the civil
governor, the king himself if he be present, ascends the steps
of the high altar, and kneeling down offers in the name of
the king a fervent prayer and an annual gift of gold, equalling
400 sterling. The service over, the cardinal officiating
pronounces the papal blessing, and to all who have shared
officially in the ceremonies are given beautiful bouquets of
flowers. Then in the sanctuary, before the holy Apostle,
and for his special amusement, the giants give a dance. In
the afternoon these grotesque figures and the ' dwarfs '
walk the streets.

' For these two days in July each year/ Mr. Wood says,
* Santiago surrenders itself to revelry and enjoyment ; then
the city resumes its peaceful, yet always bright and interest-
ing, life. The people have had their giants and dwarfs,
bands of music and mortars, celebrations in the cathedral
and their bells, and have shown that in spite of all their
woes and burdens they still know how to live.'

Among the particulars Mr. Wood so pleasantly gives, we
find the following interesting bit of information :

' In 1909, for the first time in nearly four centuries, an
English band of pilgrims, headed by the Archbishop of
Westminster, visited Galicia, by the Booth Line, under the
guidance of the Catholic Association, and their banner
is suspended in the cloisters of the holy city's minster,
while on many of their walls at home are hung the coveted
certificates of pilgrimage.'

When this excursion took place, the times had indeed
changed. Not only were the traditions of pilgrimage remote
and faint, but an archbishop of Westminster was a novelty,
and the company he led a schism from the ancient Catholic
Church of England. Nevertheless, the occasion suggests a
happy recrudescence of a romantic and poetical age. And
yet instead of pilgrims, by far the larger number of visitors
to the shrine of Santiago consists of tourists and antiquaries.
The>former do not consider that they have seen Spain unless
they have been to Compostella, and as a rule, at least while
on their journey, tourists have little religion, and still less
faith. They gaze on sacred things with rude curiosity, in
their hand a pencil rather than a crucifix, and stroll hither
and thither through hallowed precincts heedless of solemn
service or ancient association. Than antiquaries, if we may
make a comparison, tourists have immeasurably less grace.

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 365

The scholar, though, perhaps, dubious and unacquiescing,
can picture and appreciate the past, and judge fairly its
character and accomplishments ; but the mere sight-seer
rushes on his way, satisfied that the wonders at which he
has looked are scarcely worth trying to understand, and that
in all the world there is no region or people more behind
the times.

And yet, for those who have eyes to see, much is left in
Spain to remind us of a past full of interest and romance.
In his Soul of Spain, which will well reward the reader's
perusal, Havelock Ellis tells us : ' The England of Chaucer
and the ballads was familiar with the wandering figure of
the palmer with his cockle-shells. Once on arriving at
Zamora I found myself walking behind a dark, quiet,
bearded man, evidently just arrived from Compostella, who
had several large scallop-shells fastened to the back of his
cloak, and two or three little twisted shells hanging from the
top of the traditional palmer's staff he bore, an ancient
figure one supposed had passed from the earth five centuries
ago, walking through the streets of a modern city, and not
even attracting the attention of the bold and familiar
children of Zamora.'

No one would be likely to doubt the honesty of a man
making such a pilgrimage nowadays. The dishonesty would
be more likely to occur in times when the pilgrimage was
popular and profitable. Among the swarms of swindlers
which sought the alms of the citizens of London in the late
Middle Ages were sham pilgrims with a sprig of palm or a
scallop-shell in their hat, claiming to have made the journey
to Rome, Jerusalem, or Compostella. ' One such,' says
Charles Pendrill, in his London Life in the Fourteenth Century,
' walking the streets barefooted and with long hair, confessed
that although he had never visited any of these places, he
had made a living for six years on the strength of a reputation
for having done so.'

It is doubtful if pilgrimage by proxy would be free from
imposition. Sometimes devout persons sent a representative
to visit shrines and to offer the necessary prayers on their
behalf. Louis Francis Salzman, in English Life in the Middle
Ages, gives several instances of this. In 1352 a London
merchant left seven pounds for a pilgrimage to be made to
Santiago for his soul's welfare.

In this age, which we regard above all ages as more
scientific and more insistent on truth, or what we consider

366 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

truth, it is difficult to appreciate the mental drift which
assured people of bygone days that an object might be in
substance or reality that which its accidents or qualities
showed it could not be. The difficulty makes itself felt
whether one considers the sacrament on^he altar or the relics
in the shrine. Compostella claimed to have one of the thorns
from the Sacred Crown. More may be said on this difficulty,
if we would be just to such people : that is, if we would
refrain from condemning them outright as impostors or dupes.

Thus, for instance, take an illustration from an age which
cannot be regarded as ignorant or benighted. On St.
George's Day in the year 1505, Cardinal Georges d'Amboise,
an enlightened patron of arts and letters, minister of Louis
xn., and seriously thought of as a candidate for the Papacy,
sent as a present to Henry vn. of England a leg of St. George
encased in silver. The gift was received with undisguised
joy, and, at a critical moment in the affairs of Europe, did
much to soften asperities and to beget kindly feelings between
the two monarchs, and by command of Archbishop Warham
was exhibited in St. Paul's Cathedral.

Is it to be supposed that the cardinal, the archbishop, the
king of England, and the king of France, to say nothing of
the many attendants concerned in the transaction, were
bereft of their senses or their powers of reflection ? Did
they give or accept that leg of St. George without so much
as troubling themselves whether it was an actual physical
part of the body of the patron saint of England or a ' make-
believe,' at the best a mere symbol ? Or had they a gift
of suspending inquiry or judgment, and of taking for granted
the thing was really that which it was said to be ? Or did
they simply wish to believe, and so came to believe ? Of
course, it will be said that the men of whom I speak men
among the most practical leaders of that or of ; any age
were credulous, and that the depths of credulity have never
been sounded.

Perhaps so. But take, for example, Archbishop Warham.
He was not only an intimate friend and unfailing patron of
Erasmus, but also one of the wisest and ablest occupants
of the throne of Canterbury. He was deeply religious,
though his religion was more tinctured by superstition than
that of Erasmus. He became at different periods in his life
Chancellor of England and Chancellor of the University of
Oxford. Among the great men of his age, he was distin-
guished for his habit of warmly shaking hands with his

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 367

friends, however humble in position. Nor did he shrink
from favouring reform, though some thought him timid.
Henry vn., cold and cautious as he was, regarded him with
much favour. In most senses of the term he was a superior
man ; though, as Dean Hook says, his whole character
was dwarfed by the overshadowing of the master-mind of
Cardinal Wolsey. He became primate of all England about
the same time that Colet was made dean of St. Paul's and
St. George's leg was brought to England. Ten years later,
in 1616, with extraordinary rites the red hat was set on
Wolsey's head. England had rarely witnessed so sumptuous
a ceremony, and I refer to it that, by quoting a sentence
from Dean Colet's sermon on that occasion, I may have an
opportunity of suggesting the worth of dignitaries who from
time to time were most gracious to St. James of Compostella
and were not unmindful of St. George of Cappadocia. ' The
Cardinals,' said Colet, than whom there was no greater
preacher in England, 'represent the order of seraphim,
continually beaming with love to God the Blessed Trinity ;
for which reason they were arrayed in red, the colour that
denoted nobleness.'

These were the kind of men in England and France who
do not seem to have discerned either imposition or super-
stition in giving reverence to a leg of the blessed St. George.

Credulous ? If that be credulity, England has always
been subject to such. She has the inestimable tendency
to believe the best that can be said of anybody or anything.
In this she differed not from most Christian countries, but
we speak specially of her. In her religious history there
have been periods of general indifference ; then of mournful
repentance and hysterical emotionalism ; and later of
exacting and tiresome observance of outward rite and
inward devotion. Take, for instance, Sabbatarianism, which
bears somewhat on the question we are now considering.
This principle is commonly supposed to be a revival of
ancient Jewish custom brought about in modern or post-
Reformation times. It is spoken of as peculiar to the
Protestant type of Christianity in England and in Scotland.
There is no more definite mistake. The Church Catholic has
from the first advocated a rigid observance of the Sinaitic
commandment. In the Middle Ages, and indeed earlier,
there sprang up a spirit of Sabbatarianism fiercer and more
determined than England has known in any later times.

The rule of the Sabbath, which has come down to us from

368 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

ages remote even in the time of Moses, has always been hard
to maintain. The Babylonians and the Assyrians found it
so ; and had the Hebrews observed it as their leaders
commanded, the prophets would have refrained from the
injunctions, threats, and promises which abound in their
writings. Ever and anon, especially in seasons of distress,
desperate efforts were made to break up this evil and to
hinder its recurrence. In the days immediately preceding
the coming of Christ extreme views on the subject prevailed ;
and herein lay much of the opposition of the Pharisees to
His more lenient and reasonable teaching. The rabbis, for
instance, held that an egg should not be eaten which was
laid on the Sabbath Day. One of their legends said that the
fish of the Red Sea, mischievous as the serpent in Eden,
used to come ashore on the eve of the Sabbath to tempt
the people to violate the day of rest. The offenders at
length became so numerous that David, to deter others,
turned the fish into apes. This accounts for whatever
differences there are, if any, among the apes inhabiting
Egypt and Arabia. They are Sabbath-breakers.

Canon law was no less severe. It forbade dances, plays,
and games, and allowed no work to be done on Sunday.
The whole time should be spent with God ; and it was said
that not only did nature agree with the divine command,
but also that strange misfortunes befell those who violated
the law. But in vain. Even though it was pointed out
that fishes show their respect for God by refusing crumbs
from a Sunday-baked loaf, the Sabbath-breakers persisted
in their evil ways. On Sunday all self-respecting birds
refrained from singing or grubbing.

A miraculous letter sent down from Christ, which can be
traced back to the sixth century, insists that the Sunday
must be kept from Saturday noon to Monday dawn ; and
no less an authority than Roger de Hoveden states that a
miller of Wakefield who presumed to work after noon on
Saturday was punished by a sudden rush of blood which
almost filled the meal-barrel set under the hopper. The
same authority tells of other singular results : among them
of a Norfolk woman who washed clothes on the Sunday,
and, though she pleaded poverty and necessity, a small pig
of a black colour sprang at her side, and could not by any
effort be torn away. The woman screamed and her neigh-
bours ran to her rescue, but the little pig held on, sucking
away her blood and strength, and at last she terminated her

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 369

wretched life by a miserable death. That is what happened
in the thirteenth century to an obstinate Sabbath-breaker.

I do not know what the violators of the law thought of the
signs thus given. Possibly each offender imagined that while
everybody else would receive punishment, and deservedly
so, he would escape ; and few people may have observed so
closely as did the clergy the habits of the birds and fishes.
The reader who so wishes may find the letter from Christ
recorded at length in Roger of Hoveden's Chronicle ; but
St. Bernardino declares that the letter came not from heaven,
but in truth it was ' brought from the chancery of hell, and
containeth many things false, foolish, and full of lies.' So
that it seems one is not obliged to accept the authenticity of
the letter ; but the fate of the miller and the washerwoman
cannot be questioned.

Credulous ? In such defences of the moral law as these,
or in the adoration of St. George's leg ? But if so, not
peculiar to any given century ! More than sixty years since
I was myself told a story than which nothing more wonderful
happened in the most wonderful of any of the ages through
which we have journeyed in this study. Possibly there may
be variants of the story coming from the far-away past. I
do not know. This was given me as having happened within
a few years of the time I heard it ; and its truth was solemnly
vouched for.

I did not believe the story then, nor do I believe it now,
at least not literally, though I think I could explain it
metaphorically, as I should explain the swallowing of the
Egyptian magicians' rods by the Hebrew's staff, or the
effect of that same staff on the waters of the Red Sea. But
he who spoke to me, a keen-witted, accomplished, God-
fearing, and highly respected man, did believe it, and
nothing could shake his faith. To be sure, he had neither
cardinals nor seraphim to support his testimony, but he had
eyes as blue as a June sky and a voice as sweet as a black-
bird's. Moreover, though he had not seen the man on whom
the miracle was wrought, yet he knew very well people who
had seen him even though they had not felt the wound in
the neck, as it will be remembered St. Hugo of Cluny was
fortunate enough to have done in a similar instance.

A footpath from time immemorial had connected two
hamlets in a remote part of England, by running across a
field lying between them. The land belonged to a squire
who appears not to have been too kind to his villagers.

2A

370 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

The path made the distance much shorter, and the public
had acquired a right to its use. The squire objected, and
compelled the people to take the longer road. Nor would
he listen to the rector of the parish, who remonstrated with
him. At last the situation became desperate : a sullen,
angry community, and an obstinate, short-sighted, godless
landowner. No arguments could prevail.

One day the squire and the parson met on the footpath
in the field. The squire bade the parson go back. The
parson refused. The squire lifted his hand to strike. It
fell helpless to his side. Then the parson pronounced an
awful ban on the aggressor. Until he should change his
mind, undo his evil act, and restore the right-of-way to the
people, his head should turn half-way round, and remain in
that position, so that he should not be able to see where he
was going, but have a full view whence he came. By looking
on what he had done, he might discover what he should do.
The squire's head instantly made the change, much to his
inconvenience. The change made it awkward for him to
eat or drink, or to speak to anybody without turning his
back, or even to smoke pleasantly. He saw people laughing
at him as he passed by. A few days of this discipline went
far enough. He repented. The clergyman took off the
malediction. The squire's head came round. He confirmed
the rights of the public in the footpath. The rest of his days
he spent in good works, a thankful and a changed man.

I do not know what Ramon Lull or Archbishop Warham
w^ould have done with this story had they heard it. Only, I
am fairly sure they would not have taken it as an allegory.
Nor did the man who gave me the story. He held it to be
physically literal : just as the mediaevalists thought their
legends and miracles to be. Because I cannot agree with
them is no evidence that they were mistaken. For ages
men who thought at all were satisfied that the earth was
flat and that the sun encompassed it. They did not know.
Only, I wonder if we know as much as they knew of things
outside the realm of physics. Heaven mingled with earth
in their day. Perhaps it does still, but it seems farther off,
and to the world at large almost out of sight.

There were abuses, as there are abuses in everything that
man has to do with. I do not know anything thai; has been
more abused than Christianity itself. I should be sorry if
much that bears the name of Christianity were really such.
But if the tendency to error and fraud be strong, still

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 371

stronger, I believe, is the tendency to free truth from them.
Therefore I bring myself to think that in the ages when
men let go the practice of pilgrimages and the friendship
of saints because of the corruptions which had crept in,
they did not intend to cast reflexions on the principles
the myths, legends, traditions that in the first instance
created and cherished in men's minds the desire for the
practice or the reasonableness of the friendship.

A writer in the Lives of the English Saints, a work edited
long since by John Henry Newman, says : ' It is quite true
that, in many particular instances, the strange stories in
medieval narratives are strongly tinctured by the spirit of
the age, call it poetic, superstitious, or faithful, as you will.'
But the statement of the fact still leaves the truth of the
' spirit of the age ' unsettled. Does that spirit, the spirit
of any age, ever stray far from the truth ? Is there not, at
least generally speaking, under the assertions and practices
of any age, a desire to express truth ? Take the vision of
St. James at the head of the armies of Spain : Did they lie
who declared that they saw him 1 Or can we prove that
he did not appear ?

And because there have been exaggerations, misunder-
standings, deliberate artifices and tricks no less such
because they may have been designed to strengthen religious
belief, or, on the other hand, to further interests decidedly
otherwise than religious does that mean that the thing
thus maltreated and distorted is itself empty of truth ?

More than once in this study I have said that the people
of old time seem to have lived nearer than we do to the
unseen and unheard worlds of spirit life. They felt
themselves to be in the immediate neighbourhood of heaven.
God and His blessed ones dwelt as it were next door. The
very stars were not much above ground. Devout peasants
set a place at their table for the Heavenly Guest should He
be pleased to come. Not only did Abraham walk with angels,
but the folk of the Middle Ages, and of the Dark Ages, and of
the early ages of Christianity, and of ages earlier still, realized
that in the hours of toil and of slumber, in sickness and on
battlefields, God's angels were ever with them. No one
doubted that St. James was really at Compostella and taking
a close interest in the affairs of the city. The men and
women of those days were no better than the men and women
of these days ; but they appreciated the things of the other
life in a way that we cannot, or are afraid to attempt.

372 THE CULT OP SANTIAGO

Take, for instance, the following legend, of which there
are several variants. We say, 'But it's not true ''} they
would say, ' But it is beautiful.' Possibly they who think
it beautiful, never trouble themselves about its truth. They
take it as it is given.

A path ran across an ancient churchyard, and twice a
day a man used that path, to and from his work. And
every time he found himself among the graves, he stopped
and prayed that they who slept therein might have peace and
rest in paradise. The time came when the good man should
die, but, with the angels to carry him to God, there came hosts
of glorified spirits, men, women, and children, for whom he
had prayed, multitudes who sang hymns of welcome, as he
passed from his bed of death till he reached the land of life.

As I bring this chapter to an end, and try to find a way
out of the confusion into which we have wandered a
confusion which I would fain hope is no worse than that of
the woods through which brooks play hither and thither
between winding, flower-grown banks, and sunshine gleams
and flits among leaf-covered boughs and bushes there
come to my vision with renewed life the land which St.
James loved, and the times in which he wrought his wonder-
ful deeds. The times are strange to those who care for no
times but their own, and it is a weary country to those
who are looking for Florentine vistas or the charms of
English landscapes. But to me, and to the reader whose
heart beats with mine, there is a fascination, even an
exuberant joy, in both times and country. I am sorry the
old days have gone. I am sorry there came in abuses
which ate into the myths and legends, and brought shame
to the blessed Apostle and to the other holy ones with
whom Spain abounded. I can understand better than ever
William Dynet of Nottingham, who, converted from Lollardy,
in his abjuration, December 1, 1395, swore, ' I shall neuer-
more despyse pylgrimage.' And to-day, in an exquisite
Christmas carol given by Mary F. Nixon-Roulet, in her
Spaniard at Home, I hear echoes of the songs the pilgrims
sang on their way to Compostella, and of the ballads the
people by the wayside hummed to the tinkling tune of
stringed instrument :

' Into the porch at Bethlehem

Have crept the gypsies wild,
And they have stolen the swaddling clothes
Of the new-born Holy Child.

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 373

' Oh, those swarthy gypsies !

How could the rascals dare ?
They haven't left the Holy Child
A single shred to wear.'

A changed land since St. James was brought to Iria
Flavia, and Charlemagne worshipped at his shrine, and the
Great Archbishop laid the foundations of his splendour, and
to him came in dignified devotion and with gifts of gold and
precious stones, Plantagenet and Castilian, French, German,
Burgundian, and Norman, emperors and popes, princes,
prelates, merchants, knights, and multitudes of humble
folk unnamed and unnumbered ! They have vanished now.
An old saying in France ran : ' None but great beggars
go to St. James in Galicia, and little ones to St. Michael ' ;
but great beggars come no more. And travellers wander
through that north country, complaining of its inconveni-
ences George Borrow said, 'No horse can stand the food
of Galicia and the mountains of Galicia, long, without falling
sick ' ; but such travellers never say aught of saints, rarely
even of St. James. No ; neither saints nor angels, nor the
- Messed James himself, would rid them of the inconveniences,
but the contemplation of men who had fought and won
might beget a composure and a surrender which would
help careworn strangers to bear all the ills that they are
called upon to bear.

Instead of entertaining such thoughts, they declare the
region God-forsaken and hopeless, fit chiefly for rabbits
the numbers of rabbits in far-away days gave that part of
the Peninsula towards the Mediterranean its name, ' pahan/
thence Hispania. On some of the coins struck in the reign
of Hadrian, during his visit there, the bust of the emperor
is seen on the obverse, and on the reverse a female figure
with an olive branch in her hands, and a rabbit at her feet,
and the legend, 'Hispania.' A rough, wild land, burrowed
and devoured by pests, possibly worthless but for their skin.
' Span ' appears to be also Phoenician for a land remote
or hidden from sight, the most distant country known to
the eastern seafarers, ' Spain.' So even to-day, in spite of
railways and steamboats, Galicia seems to visitors from
England or America, from London or Paris, far away,
strange, and desolate a breeding-place for rabbits, almost
out of the world. The fault is with the visitors, and not
with the country. But in Spain itself the mere epithet of
' Gallego ' indicates a boor, a person to be made fun of ; and

2A2

374 THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

as nearly all Spanish servants come from Galioia, the epithet
is almost a badge of servitude. A Castilian, feeling the
sting of insult, will exclaim : I have been treated as if I
were a Gallego ! ' A proverb has it : * All who are born in
Spain are Spaniards, and the Gallegos besides.'

When we think of it, however, we become aware that
Galicia is not the only part of Spain behind the times, or at
all events odd in its manners and customs. There are habits
throughout Spain, as in every other country in the world,
that surprise the stranger. Interest in the future life is
everywhere manifest, though in old time the people had
little respect for asceticism. They have little more to-day,
but they ever keep the dead in mind. Arnold Bennett
says, though I am not sure of his information, that 'the
Spanish Church has displayed such psychological expertness
in the exploitation of human nature, that even to-day a
Spanish widow will pay for half a page in a newspaper to
inform the world about the prospects of the soul of her
departed husband.'

But the Gallegans do not mind how much they are laughed
at. They are a .simple, good-natured, hospitable kind of
folk. Eorget the pilgrimages, the turmoil and trade they
created, and the country and its inhabitants will be found
not to have changed so much as people who do not know
the conditions may suppose. The New World was not
always called ' Hispania ' or ' Spain,' but also ' Iberia ' ;
and Iberia comes from the Basque ' Ibaia,' running water,
and running water suggests pleasant landscapes and nooks
and corners of exquisite delight. Hence the River Ebro.
And the Gallegans still have the streams, threads of silvery
beauty ; and the mountains, rough and bare perhaps, but
with a wonder and grace all their own ; and villages quaint,
dilapidated, and old when Madrid was new, and mighty cities
beyond the sea were unthought of ; and roadside churches
and shrines suggestive of thoughts almost too sacred for
expression sanctuaries, which, with heart touched by
angels' fingers, the dreamer pictures living in visions of
devotion, legend, and faith, as entrancing in pure attractive-
ness as they are soul-stirring in association.

Seville is not there ; nor the Alhambra nor the Escorial.
He has a strange heart who there thinks of them. But St.
James is there, and one looks heavenward and sees the blue
of Galilee and hears the call from the fisherman's boat ; and
in old Compostella, before the devout spectator, stands the

THROUGH DARKNESS INTO LIGHT 375

warrior-saint, his face radiant and his figure noble and
knightly as ever.

Over that countryside, in the early dawn and in the
eventide, there flows from rising or setting sun a loveliness
suggestive more of heaven than earth ; and on hill and in
valley, on tree and spire, the loveliness gathers in deep and
deepening glow, and the clouds seem to change into hosts
of angels. In that glory, as the men of old time would say,
Sinai is forgotten and Sion appears in perfect beauty. A
scene, divinely created, now softening into peace beyond
expression, now heightening into vision beyond all dreams,
but always such as tells of life of ages unending, of days
gone by, of memories ever to be remembered, but always
of life the life for which men live and die, and which
Christ gives to true penitents and honest pilgrims the life
of the Apostle, whose fire begets light, and to whom, so the
Church once believed, God entrusted the care of the Spanish
country and its people !

INDEX

Abd-ar-Kahman I., 131, 132.
Abdias, Apostolic History of, 114.
Abiathar and Josias, 116.
Adrian vi., 181.
Alcuin, 138.

Alexander 11., Pope, 181.
Alexander in., Pope, 181.
Alexander vi., Pope, 308.
Alfonso el Batallador, of Aragon,

204.
Alfonso n., the Chaste, 137, 153, 157,

158.

Alfonso in., the Great, 159, 172.
Alfonso vn., the Emperor, 198, 205,

207, 208, 209, 269.
Alfred the Great, of England, 1,|73.
Al-Ghazal, 158.
Almanzor, 163-7, 171, 184.
Altar-piece at Compostella, 327.
Angels, 76, 78 ; at Mons, 176 ; 371.
Ansgot, English pilgrim, 249.
Antealtares, San Pedro de, 157, 166,

189.
Anthony, St., of Padua, sermon on

Transfiguration, 51.
Apostles, the three chief, 4.
Ardenne, Dr. John, 233.
Arthur, grandson of Henry n., 210.
Arthur, son of Henry vni., 310.
Arundel, Thomas, Archbishop of

Canterbury, 352, etc.
Assumption of B.V.M., 33.
Athanasius, the Evangelist, 163.
Avignon, the Three Keys of, 319,

320.

Aymery Picaud, 191, 229, 230.
Az Zahra, 134.

Babylonian consciousness of sin,

102.

Balbulus, Notker, 24.
Baldwin i., king of Jerusalem, 296.
Baptism a means of safety, 156, 185.
Barsham, Maurice de, an English

pilgrim, 249.
Bartholomew, St., talks with a devil,

341.

Bees in tomb, 309.
Bell, Aubrey F. G., 96, 363.
Bellarmine, 357.
376

Bells of Compostella : taken away,

166 ; brought back, 273.
Bells, the music of heaven, 9, 76,

166, 261.
Benedict xin. (Pedro de Luna), 319,

etc.

Bennett, Arnold, 374.
Berengaria, queen of Alfonso ix.,

and mother of Ferdinand in.,

268, 272.

Bernard, Archbishop, 199.
Bernard the Marvellous, architect,

196.
Blanche, daughter of Alfonso vin.

and Eleanor of England, 268, 269,

270.

Blanche of Lancaster, 278, 279.
Boanerges, the sons of thunder, 48.
Boorde, Dr. Andrew, 316, 330, etc.
Bordeaux, 249, 267.
Borrow, George Henry, 10, 17, 212.
Botafumeiro, 211.
Bridget, St., 329.
Bromyard, John, preacher, 327.
Bruce, Bobert I. of Scotland, 300.
Buck, W. J., 16.
Bunyan, John, 217, 227, 297.
Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy,

171, 332.
Butler, Alban, 13, 82.

Caesar, Julius, 85.

Calixtus ii., Pope, 23, 139, 166, 208,

249.

Call of the Fishermen, 43.
Cardinals, 19, 318, 343.
Carthaginians, 85, 105.
Carthusians, 333.
Castile spoken of as a rough country,

283, 337, 344, 345, 373.
Catherine of Aragon, 265, 310,

342.
Caxton, William, the printer, 38,

306.

Celestine in., Pope, 181.
Celibacy, 90, 335, 368.
Chandos, Sir John, 231.
Chapman, Abel, 16.
Charlemagne, 138-56, 343, 373.
Charles v., Emperor, 310, 311.

INDEX

377

Charles Martel, 132, 138.

Charles's Wain, 138.

Chaucer's Canterbury Pilgrims, 8,

72, 214, 222, 231, 234, 278, 323,

350.
Christ preferred as a king rather

than as a carpenter, 97.
Christianity not a new religion, 102,

107 ; welcomes all truth, 111.
Christopher, St., 262.
Christopher Columbus, 63, 231.
Church gathers in all truth, 110.
Cicero on benefits of travel, 216.
Cid, Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, 178,

179.
Clavijo and the vision of St. James,

171-4.

Clement of Alexandria, 34, 117.
Cluny, 186, 188, 196-203.
Cockle-shells, 349, 365.
Coimbra, 178.

Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, 367.
Commutations for pilgrimages, 240.
Compostella, 168, 183, 206, 247;

cathedral, 166, 190, 191, 192, 194,

211, 212,' 313.
Constance, wife of Louis vii., 257,

259.
Constanza, wife of John of Gaunt,

279

Cordoba, 133-6, 146, 164, 160, 183.
Corunna, 280, 296, 302, 317, 324.
Coulton, G. G., 8, 79, 201.
Covadonga, 136.
Cresconio, Bishop, 186, 189, 201.
Cromwell, Thomas, 332, 335, 339.
Cross, Invention of, 25.
Crusade, First, proclaimed, 196.
Cult, use of term, 3.
Customs in Spain, 337.

Dalmatius, Bishop, 195-7, 201.

Dante, 218, 221.

De Werchin, fighting pilgrim, 232.

Digby, Kenelm Henry, 23.

Dominic, St., kills a sparrow, 75.

Don Quixote, 181.

Douglas, Lord James of, 300.

Doxy, Reinhart, 14.

Dunham, Dr. Samuel Astley, 19.

Dunstan, St., 73.

Edward I. of England, 238, 276.
Edward iv. of England, 304.
Edward, the Black Prince, 279.
Eleanor of Aquitaine, 265, 260, 261.
Eleanor of Castile, wife of Edward i.,

29,276.
Eleanor, wife of Alfonso vni., 267.

Elizabeth, queen of England, 244,

251, 331.

Ellis, Havelock, 366.
Eloi, St., 224.
Emilianus, 87.
England, the best country in the

world, 337.
England, Church of, daughter of

Roman Church, 83.
English Roman Catholic' pilgrimage,

364.

Epiphanius, 32, 82.
Episcopal Freebooters, 206.
Erasmus, 222 ; on Pilgrimages, 354,

etc.

Escalas, Conde de, 306, 307.
Estiano, Bishop, 179.
Eugenius, Bishop and Martyr of

Toledo, 87.
Eusebius, 32.

Fall of Man, 7.

Feathers for pilgrims, 339, 341.

Ferdinand the Catholic, king of

Aragon, 181, 308, 313.
Ferdinand i., king of Leon and

Castile, 178.
Ferdinand ii., king of Leon, 180,

181.
Ferdinand m., king of Castile, and

saint, 272, 273.

Ferreiro, Antonio Lopez, 21, 191.
Ferrer, Mauro CasteUa, 21.
Ferrer, Master Vincent, great

preacher, 320.
Fletcher, C. R. L., 14.
Florez, Enrique, 19.
Ford, Richard, 14, 160.
Francis, St., of Assisi, 245.
Frederick n., Emperor, 274.
Froissart, 280-3.
Froude, James Anthony, 8, 320.
Fructuosus, St., 87.
Fuente, Fernandez de, 181.
Furnivall, Dr. F. J., 332, 333, 335.

Galilee, 41.

Gallichan, Mrs. C. Gasquoine, 16,

17, 160.

Gascoigne, Dr. William, 323.
Gasquet, Cardinal, 8.
Gaunt, John of, 277-85, 317.
Gelmirez, Bishop Diego, 20, 37,

184.
George, St., of England, 6, 124, 287 ;

at Alcoraz and Mons, 175 ; leg

goes to England, 366.
Geronimo, Bishop, 149.
Gibbon, 14, 182.
Glastonbury thornbush, 83.

378

THE CULT OF SANTIAGO

Glauber, Ralph, 185.

Glory, Gate of, at Compostella, 191,

192, 246, 363.

Godric, St., Norfolk pilgrim, 295-9.
Goodyear, John, parson and pilgrim,

327-9.

Gower, John, poet, 79.
Gregory xi., Pope, 319.
Gudesteo, Bishop, 189.
Gudmarson, Ulf, Swedish pilgrim,

329.

Guibert, Abbot, 341.
Guilds help pilgrims, 239.
Gypsies steal clothes of Infant

Christ, 372.

Hegesippus, 30, 31, 34, 35, 36.
Helena, Empress and saint, 25.
Henrietta, queen of Charles i., goes

barefooted to Tyburn, 361.
Henry n., king of England, 254, 260.
Henry in., king of England, 274.
Henry iv., king of England, 259.
Henry vni., king of England, 255.
Henry n., of Trastamara, 279.
Hermits, 147.

Hermogenes and Philetus, 115.
Hildebrand, 187.
Hooker, Richard, 61, 77.
Hosius, bishop of Cordoba, 88.
Hrosvita Gandersheim, 33.
Hugh, abbot of Cluny, 201, 208,

341, 342, 369.
Huizinga, Professor J., 72.
Human nature same in all ages, 6,

69, 77.
Hume, Martin A. S., 14.

Ibanez, Vincente Blasco, 320.
Ibn-Abu-Amir, 161-7.
Ibn-Edhari, 164.
Ildefonso of Toledo, 131, 149.
Ildefrede, Abbot, 167.
Immortality, 108.
Indian summer, 97.
Innocent in., Pope, 93.
Invention of the Cross, 25.
Iria Flavia, 20, 96, 96.
Irving, Washington, 15, 16.
Isabella of Castile, 283, 308, etc.
Isabella, wife of Emperor Frederick

n., 273.
Isidore of Seville, 24, 83, 130, 224.

Jaime, king of Aragon, 286.

James, St. Alphaeus or the Less :
bit by a viper, 29 ; martyrdom,
36 ; head goes to Compostella,
37, 206.

James the Martyr, 27.

James, St., son of Zebedee : con-
fusion with James the Less, 28,
34, 35, 38, 98; Knights of St.
James, 180 ; landing of his body
in Spain, 122 ; his loneliness, 125 ;
provoked, 225 ; relics, 253 ;
vision of B.V.M., 312.

James's, St., Eve in Compostella,
363 ; present - day celebration,
363, 364.

James's, St., palace in London, 10,
362.

James's, St., park in London, 361.

Jameson, Mrs. Anna, 13, 30, 35.

Jerome, St., 31.

John the Baptist, 79.

John, son of Zebedee, 4, 83.

Jonah, 84.

Josephus, 34.

Joshua bids sun stand still, 60.

Juan i. of Castile, 280, 281, 282.

Juan 11. of Castile, 283.

Jusserand, 17, 236.

King, Professor Georgiana Goddard,
13, 17, 160, 209, 227, 267.

Langland in Piers Plowman, 350.

Larwood, Jacob, 362.

Lea, Henry C., 19, 209.

Legend, use of word, 61, etc.

Leo in., Pope, 147.

Leo xni., Pope, 165.

Leovigild, Gothic king, 130.

Los Angeles, 213.

Louis vi., 265 ; vii., 255-9 ; vni.,

269 | ix., 264, 269, 270-2.
Lourdes, 218.
Lull, Ramon, 286, etc.
Lull's Blanquerna, 292.
Lull's Book of the Lover, 289, 291.
Luna, Rodrigo, Archbishop, 319.,

321.
Luna, Pedro de (Benedict xin.),

319, etc.
Luther, Martin, 360, 356, 358.

Mackenzie, Alexander S., 16.
Magic, 192, 320.
Mary Magdalene, 119.
Mallorca, Island of, 287.
Man hanged revives, 120.
Man's search for God, 7.
Mandeville, Sir John, 79.
Maps or Mapes, 265, 266.
Mariana, Juan de, 20, 347.
Martin of Tours, bishop and saint,
6, 90, 97.

INDEX

379

Mary Tudor, queen of England,
311, 331, 336.

Masdeu, Francisco, 22.

Mateo, architect, 190-4.

Matilda, Empress, 250, etc.

Matilda, wife of Henry of Saxony,
266.

Men born free and equal, 244.

Menedemus and Oxygius, in Eras-
mus's Colloquies, 354, etc.

Merchant delivered out of Tower,
35.

Milky Way, 126, 145, 221, 224, 349.

Millennium, 183, etc.

Miracles, nature of, 56.

Molina, Francisco, 22.

Morales, Ambrosio de, 21, 347.

Morley, Henry, 297, 369.

Moore, Sir John, 317.

More, Sir Thomas, 306, 358.

Morris dance, 185.

Moses' rod, 57, 186, 369.

Mozarabic Liturgy, 203.

Mozoncio, Bishop San Pedro, 186,
189.

Mugia, 94, 95.

Munzo, Archbishop Don Pedro,
192, 193.

Nature does not work miracles, 169.

Neale, Dr. John Mason, 51.

Necromancy, 192-4.

Newman, Cardinal John Henry, 371.

Nicholas of Popplan, 96.

Noah's Flood, 63.

Normans, 160.

Nun bites a devil, 341.

Odour of sanctity, 149, 150.

Ordofip I., 158.

Organisation necessary to religion,

109.

Owst, Dr. G. R., 323, 326.
Oysters on St. James's Day, 361.

Padron, 169.

Pageant of Pilgrims, 338.

Palagio the Hermit, 147-63.

Pamplona, 171, 230.

Papacy, a necessary growth, 187.

Parish clergy in old time, 71.

Paschal n., Pope, 199, 202, 336.

Paston Letters, 301, etc.

Pattison, Mark, 217.

Paul, Apostle, 2, 86.

Paula, Roman matron and saint,

215.

Paulus Diaconus, 92, 94, 136.
Pedro the Cruel, 279, 317.
Peers, Professor E. Allison, 291.

Pelaez, Bishop, 189, 191, 195, 197,
204.

Pelayo, 136.

Pendrill, Charles, 366.

Peniscola, 320, 321.

Personality, 107.

Peter, St., 4, 9, 83.

Philip Augustus of France, 268.

Philip ii. of Spain, 311.

Picaud, Aymery, 191, 229, 230.

Pilgrimage by deputy, 365.

Pilgrims' complaints, 227.

Pilgrims killed by drinking water,
344.

Pilgrims' sea-voyage and sea-sick-
ness, 237, 238.

Pilgrims' services at Compostella,
363.

Plantagenet, Geoffrey, 253.

Prayers for the Dead, benefit of,
372.

Princes in the Tower, 305.

Priscillian, 86, 89.

Prudentius, 217.

Purchas, Samuel, 18, 229.

Rabelais on pilgrimages, 354.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 231.
Ramiro I., 172, 208.
Raymund of Toulouse, 233.
Raymund of Burgundy, 198, 204,

251.
Reason manifests itself in all ages,

77.
Reformation sometimes necessary,

112.
Religion, endless in a variety of

form, 100 ; not an acquired

quality, 99 ; a universal faculty,

7, 102.
Religions borrow from one another,

102, 105.

Remedy for laziness, 334.
Richard i. of England, 233, 234;

ii., 277 ; m., 305.
Rivers, Anthony Woodville, Earl,

301, etc.

Robin Hood, 1, 8, 62.
Roderick, last Visigoth king of

Spam, 130.
Roet, Katherine, third wife of John

of Gaunt, 284.
Roland, 141-6, 230.
Rome, the city, 202.
Roncesvalles, 141-5.
Rosamond the Fair, 261.

Salimbene, Fra, 78, 119, 276.
Salzman, Louis Francis, 72, 365.

380

THE CULT OP SANTIAGO

Sanuto, Marino, Venetian traveller,

37.

Saragossa, 93, 94, 312.
Sargon the Accad, 119.
Scallop-shells, 122, 197, 349, 355.
Scepticism in the Ages of Faith, 78,

80, 177, 265, 347.
Sens, 185.
Sermon Outlines ('Sleep-wells'),

325.

Shakespeare, 219, 322.
Shelley, Henry 0., 287, 289.
Sisnandus, Bishop, 159, 179.
Sixtus iv., Pope, 220, 304.
Spain, the America of the Old

World, 84 ; etymology of name,

373.

Spenser's Faerie Queene, 359.
Spider, one of the Devil's favourite

disguises, 75.

Squire closes footpath and is appro-
priately punished, 370.
Sunday observance, 367.
Swearing pilgrims, 224, 230.
Symbolism, 103, 111.

Theodomirus, Bishop, 147-54, 157.
Theodosius, Emperor, 129.
Theodosius, Evangelist, 153.
Theodosius, Pilgrim, 36.
Thomas, St., and archbishop of

Canterbury, 5, 293.
Thorpe, William, 351-3.
Toledo, 86, 87.
Toleration sometimes an evidence

of death, 106.

Torquemada, Tomas, 308, 309.
Translation of bodies, 117, 121.
Trench, Archbishop, 61.
Tuck the Friar, 8.
Turpin, Archbishop, 139-46, 166,

343.

Twelfth century, characteristics of,
127.

Unknown disciple at court of High

Priest, 49.

Urban n., Pope, 196, 199, 280.
Urraca, Queen, 37, 198, 204, 247,

251.

Valois, Tomas, Irish archbishop,

362.
Victoria, princess of England and

queen of Spain, 311.
Village Life in Old Time, 70.
Vincent, St., 88, 119.
Virgin Mary, Blessed, appears to

St. Godric, 297 ; at Saragossa,

93, 312 ; at Toledo, 93, 131.

Warham, William, Archbishop of

Canterbury, 366, 370.
Water, holy, disliked by the Devil,

76.

Watling Street, 221.
Watts, Henry Edward, 21, 22.
Way, Master William, 315, etc.
Wido, Archbishop, 220.
William de Chisi, 233.
William, abbot of Clairvaux, 75.
William the Conqueror, 250.
William of Poitiers, 171.
William x., duke of Aquitaine, 254.
Williamson, Dr. George C., 301, 363.
Witches and Mediums, 65.
Wolsey, Cardinal, 367.
Wood, Antony, 335.
Wood, Walter, 363.
Wurtzburg, John of, 37.
Wynkyn de Worde, 236.

Zebedee, ambition of the sons of, 45.
Zeca at Cordoba, 133.
Zurita, Jeronimo, 21.

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